(WTHBERT 

WITH   SLLUSTRATJO^S  BY  THE  AUTHOR 

LJTTLEJ3ROVM.&  CO.  BOSTON 
1593 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

^lnt>  Ijis  JFrienii 
VERDANT    GREEN 


TALES    OF    COLLEGE    LIFE 


BY 

CUTHBERT   BEDE,  B.A. 

AUTHOR    OF 

I 

"THE  ADVENTURES  OF  MR.  VERUANT  GREEN,  AN  OXFORD  FRESHMAN" 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS   BY   THE   AUTHOR 


BOSTON 
LITTLE,    BROWN,   AND    COMPANY 

1893 


Copyright,  1893, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 


JOHN  WILSON  ANU  SON.  CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


ion 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

PAGE 

LITTLE   MR.    BOUNCER   MAKES  A  CALL    ON  HIS   FRIEND, 

VERDANT  GREEN  I 


CHAPTER   II. 

LITTLE    MR.    BOUNCER    EXTRACTS    FROM    MR.   VERDANT 

GREEN  THE  CAUSE  OF  HIS  DESPONDENCY   .  8 


CHAPTER   III. 

LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER   TAKES   MEASURES  TO  BEFRIEND 

MR.  VERDANT  GREEN 17 

CHAPTER    IV. 

LITTLE    MR.    BOUNCER    TROUBLES    THE    HON.    BLUCHER 

BOOTS  FOR  AN  EXPLANATION 24 

CHAPTER   V. 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER  GIVES  A  BREAKFAST  PARTY  ...    32 


vi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   VI. 

PAGB 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER  ENTERTAINS  HIS  FRIENDS,  AND  is 

ENTERTAINED   BY   THEM 39 

CHAPTER  VII. 

LITTLE    MR.    BOUNCER    HEARS    SOME    THINGS    FOR    HIS 

ADVANTAGE,  AND  OTHERS  FOR  HIS  AMUSEMENT     .    47 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER  BEGS  CHARLES  LARKYNS  TO  UNFOLD 

HIS  TALE 54 

CHAPTER   IX. 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER  TAKES  PART  IN  A  LITTLE-GO  WINE    61 

CHAPTER   X. 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER   is  ASKED  TO  ACT  AS  SECOND  IN 

A  DUEL 69 

CHAPTER   XI. 

LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER'S   FRIEND    PRELUDES    THE    DUEL 

WITH  SOME  TEA-TRAY  AND  POKER  Music  ....     76 

CHAPTER   XII. 

LITTLE    MR.   BOUNCER   EATS  Two   BREAKFASTS  ON  THE 

LAST  MORNING  OF  TERM 84 


CONTENTS.  Vii 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

PAGE 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER  BIDS  FAREWELL  TO  MR.  VERDANT 

GREEN  FOR  A  BRIEF  SEASON 90 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER  HAS  HIS  ATTENTION  DIRECTED  TO 

COACHES  AND  COACHMEN 98 

CHAPTER   XV. 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER  LEAVES  OXFORD  IN  COMPANY  WITH 

MR.  SMALLS 105 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER  FORMS  THE  ACQUAINTANCE  OF  DR. 

DUSTACRE 112 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER  is  SOMEWHAT  SURPRISED  AT  DR. 

DUSTACRE .     .     118 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER  is  STILL  MORE  SURPRISED  AT  DR. 

DUSTACRE 125 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER  is  TAKEN  CAPTIVE  BY  DR.  DUST- 
ACRE  132 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

PAGE 

PHYSICIAN  AND  PATIENT 232 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE  PATIENT  SPELLS  PATIENCE 238 

/ 
CHAPTER   VI. 

THE  SICK  MAN  is  IN  DANGER 242 

CHAPTER   VII. 
THE  SICK  MAN'S  SYMPTOMS  ARE  DUBIOUS 247 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

MR.  PERCIVAL  WYLDE  is  DOING  WELL. —  No  FURTHER 

BULLETINS  WILL  BE  ISSUED 252 


£  Long^acation  JBtgtU 

CHAPTER   I. 

WHICH   INTRODUCES   THE   HERO    .      .      .      .  s 254 

CHAPTER   II. 

WHICH    INTRODUCES   THE    HEROINE 256 


CONTENTS.  xi 


CHAPTER    III. 

PAGE 

DISCOVERIES  AND  BEWILDERMENTS      .    , 259 


CHAPTER   IV. 
DEEPER  AND  DEEPER  STILL 262 

CHAPTER   V. 
A  CLUE  TO  THE  MYSTERY 265 

CHAPTER  VI. 
PLANS  AND  PREPARATIONS 269 

CHAPTER  VII. 
ALVANLEY  TO  THE  RESCUE  ! 273 

CHAPTER   VIII. 
A  MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S  REALITY 278 

V 

CHAPTER   IX. 

MYSTIFICATIONS  AND  EXPLANATIONS 281 

CHAPTER   X. 
BRIEF,  BUT  SATISFACTORY 284 


xii  CONTENTS. 

£lje  onlp  $an  left  in  College  on  Christmas 

CHAPTER   I. 

PAGE 

THE  "  CHRISTMAS  COACH  " .    .    286 

CHAPTER   II. 
THE  CHRISTMAS  DINNER '289 


ILLUSTRATIONS    IN    THE   TEXT, 


BY   THE  AUTHOR. 

PAGE 

Initial . i 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer  and  his  Post-horn 2 

His  Scout  laid  the  Supply  from  the  Buttery  on  the  Table    ....  5 

Initial 8 

Mr.  Verdant  Green  sat  in  a  Dejected  Posture 15 

Initial 17 

Mr.  Verdant  Green,  like  his  Tea,  in  Hot  Water 19 

A  Derby  Sweep 21 

Mr.  Bouncer  walks  up  the  High  Street 22 

Initial      .     .     . ' 24 

The  Intruder  flourished  his  Battered  Cap  by  its  Tassel 26 

Mr.  Blucher  Boots  .     .     .     • 28 

Initial 32 

At  many  Windows  there  were  "Visions  of  Dimpled  Cheeks  and  Flash 
ing  Eyes 37 

Mr.  Bouncer's  Breakfast  Table - 38 

Initial , 39 

Ye  Master  of  Bellyol 40 

"  Take  a  Glass  of  Wine,  Peter  " 42 

Mrs.  Tester's  "  Spazzums  " 45 

Initial 47 

We  got  a  Ladder  and  placed  it  carefully 48 

An  Examination , 51 

Initial 54 

Plucking 55 

Went  headlong  into  the  River ....  58 


XIV  ILLUSTRATIONS   IN   THE   TEXT. 

PAGE 

Folly  Bridge 59 

Initial 61 

My  Little  Bill      .    . 63 

The  Baker's  Boy  had  his  usual  Sip  at  the  Bottle 65 

Scene  from  the  annual  Oxford  Pantomime 66 

Initial 69 

To  resent  the  Insult  was  Mr.  Bulpit's  Immediate  Resolve       ...  70 

"  For  he  's  a  Jolly  Good  Fellow  " 72 

Initial 76 

Mr.  Bouncer's  Dream 80 

Attired  in  the  airy  Costume  of  a  Night-gown,  but  armed  with  a  Tea- 
tray  and  Poker Si 

Initial 84 

Mr.  Bouncer  awakens  Mr.  Smirke 85 

Mr.  Smirke  sat  down  and  wrote  a  Letter  of  Abject  Apology   ...  88 

Initial 90 

The  Head  Cook  of  Brazenface 92 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer  and  Verdant  Green  went  into  the  Coffee-room   .  96 

Initial 98 

He  brought  in  the  Bitter  Beer 101 

Then  we  smoke  a  Pipe  or  two 102 

Initial 105 

An  Agitating  Scene 108 

The  Quick-stepping  Horses  took  them  along  at  a  Rapid  Pace      .     .  no 

Initial 112 

The  Woodlands 113 

Doctor  Dustacre 118 

The  Footman  was  standing  on  the  Steps,  surveying  the  Beauties  of 

Nature 120 

Doctor  Dustacre  made  a  Rapid,  but   Careful  Survey  of  Mr.  Boun-  > 

cer's  Face  and  Expression 122 

Initial .' 125 

Doctor  Dustacre  continues  his  Examination  of  Mr.  Bouncer  .     .     .  128 

Initial 132 

Mr.  Bouncer  is  taken  Captive 137 

Initial 139 


ILLUSTRATIONS   IN   THE   TEXT.  XV 

PAGE 

Doctor  Dustacre  put  his  Head  out  of  the  Window  of  the  Chaise      .  144 

Initial 149 

Initial 157 

Mr.  Bouncer  and  Mrs.  Flabby 158 

Initial 166 

Mr.  Bouncer  remained  proof  against  the  Temptation  of  the  Mutton- 
Pie    168 

Initial 174 

Mr.  Quickfall  was  far  too  engrossed  with  his  Subject  to  continue 

.his  Hair-dressing  Duties 178 

Initial 180 

Charles  Larkyns  cantered  up  and  joined  them        183 

Initial 186 

The  Silent  Perruquier  worked  vigorously  at  his  Hair 191 

Initial 193 

Initial     ...'.' 199 

Mr.  Bouncer  returns  to  the  Home  of  his  Ancestors 204 


LITTLE    MR.   BOUNCER 


AND 


HIS  FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN. 


CHAPTER   I. 

LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER    MAKES   A  CALL  ON    HIS  FRIEND 
VERDANT   GREEN. 

ULLO,  Giglamps  !  "  It  was  the 
unmistakable  cheery  voice 
of  little  Mr.  Bouncer.  He 
had  crossed  from  his  own 
rooms  in  the  grand  old  Col 
lege  of  Brazenface,  Oxford, 
and  had  stopped  on  a  certain 
landing,  before  a  door  over 
which  was  painted  the  mono 
syllable  "  GREEN."  His  bat 
tered  College  cap  was  on 
his  head,  but,  as  no  under 
graduate's  gown  was  upon  his  shoulders,  it  was  to  be 
presumed  that  the  little  gentleman  had  not  come  from 
lectures,  or  returned  from  a  stroll  through  the  streets  of 
Oxford,  or  from  any  other  place  where  the  wearing  of 


2  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

full  academical  costume  would  have  been  demanded  by 
the  authorities  of  the  University.  Though,  if  the  full 
costume  required  by  the  statutes  had  been  rigorously 
enforced,  Mr.  Bouncer  would  have  cheerfully  bowed  to 


destiny,  and  would  probably  have  imitated  the  gentle 
man  who  suspended  his  pair  of  bands  under  his  coat 
tails,  because  the  law  had  not  expressly  stated  on  what 
part  of  the  body  they  were  to  be  worn. 

But  Mr.  Bouncer's  sole  academical  attire  on  this  occa 
sion  was  his  battered  "  mortar-board ;  "  and,  in  place  of 
carrying  a  Livy,  or  Euripides,  or  Euclid,  or  any  other 
book  that  would  have  betokened  a  recent  attendance  at 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  3 

the  rooms  of  Mr.  Slowcoach  or  the  Rev.  Richard  Har 
mony,  and  the  other  tutors  whose  delightful  task  it  was 
to  teach  the  young  ideas  of  the  Brazenfacians  how  to 
shoot  • —  instead  of  any  tome  of  learning,  little  Mr. 
Bouncer  bore  in  his  hand  his  long  tin  post-horn,  from 
which  he  invoked  unearthly  sounds,  that  re-echoed  from 
the  staircase  to  the  outer  quad.  He  particularised  this 
performance  as  "  sounding  his  octaves,"  and  summarised 
it  as  "  going  the  complete  unicorn."  In  addition  to  this, 
Mr.  Bouncer  was  smoking  a  cigar — that  "Nicotian 
herb  "  the  consumption  of  which  is  so  strictly  forbidden 
by  another  of  those  Oxford  statutes,  which  every  student, 
at  his  matriculation,  is  solemnly  required  by  the  Vice- 
Chancellor  most  strictly  to  observe.  He  was,  moreover, 
accompanied  by  two  living  creatures,  who  would  not,  by 
any  possibility,  have  been  admitted  to  a  college  lecture. 
These  were  his  two  famous  bull-terriers,  Huz  and  Buz ; 
most  villainous-looking  pets,  with  ponderous  heads  and 
savage  teeth  and  corkscrew  tails,  who,  at  every  blast  of 
the  horn,  barked  and  howled,  either  in  sympathy  with 
the  noise,  or  in  direct  antagonism  to  its  defiant  sum 
mons  ;  for,  it  would  be  difficult  to  interpret  the  feelings 
of  Huz  and  Buz  when  they  heard  their  master's  carica 
ture  imitations  of  Kcenig's  performance  in  Jullien's  Post- 
horn  Galop,  which,  just  at  that  time,  was  in  the  height 
of  its  popularity,  and  was  hummed  or  whistled  in  every 
quad  in  Brazenface  and  the  University. 

The  inmate  of  the  rooms  over  the  outer  door  of 
which  was  painted  the  monosyllable  "  GREEN,"  had 
"  sported,"  or  securely  closed  that  outer  door  or  "  oak ;  " 
and  this  not  only  prevented  little  Mr.  Bouncer  from 
gaining  immediate  admission,  but  also  caused  him  to 
prolong  the  fanfares  on  his  tin  horn  and  furnished  Huz 


4  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

and  Buz  with  a  pardonable  excuse  for  indulging  in-  a 
canine  chorus;  all  of  which  was  most  detrimental  to  the 
peace  of  mind  of  Mr.  Sloe,  the  peripatetic  reading  man 
in  the  garret  above,  whose  study  of  Aristophanes  had 
already  been  disturbed  by  the  doleful  performance  of 
"  Away  with  Melancholy,"  given  on  the  cornet-a-piston 
at  an  open  window  on  the  ground-floor,  by  a  gentleman 
whose  love  for  music  surpassed  his  power  of  expression 
and  execution. 

"Hullo,  Giglamps  !  "  shouted  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  after 
his  Post-horn  overture ;  "  open  sesame,  old  fellow ;  and 
let  the  forty  thieves  come  in.  Blow,  warder,  blow  thy 
sounding  horn ;  and  never  say  blow  it;  but,  thy  banners 
wave  on  high.  Why  don't  you  wave  your  banners, 
Giglamps?  here's  the  warder  calling  till  he  is  hoarse. 
He's  in,  isn't  he,  Robert?" 

Mr.  Robert  Filcher  —  the  scout,  who,  as  servant, 
waited  on  Mr.  Verdant  Green  and  the  gentlemen  who 
were  on  that  staircase  —  was  coming  along  the  passage 
with  a  supply  of  eatables  from  the  Buttery,  and  replied, 
"  I  know  he  's  in,  sir ;  for  he  's  took  out  a  ^£ger,  and  I  'm 
just  taking  him  his  Commons.  He  's  not  had  no  sober- 
water  this  morning,  and  I  'm  not  aweer  as  he  were  pleas 
ant  last  night ;  but,  he  's  sported  his  oak,  not  wishing  to 
see  nobody." 

As  Mr.  Filcher  spoke  these  words,  the  outer  door  was 
opened  by  a  tall,  benevolent-looking,  smooth-faced 
gentleman,  in  spectacles;  and  Mr.  Verdant  Green  gave 
admittance  to  his  new  friend,  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  and 
also  to  his  scout,  who  laid  the  supply  from  the  Buttery 
on  the  table,  and,  on  hearing  "  there  's  nothing  more 
that  I  want,  thank  you,  Robert,"  made  his  exit  from  the 
room. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN. 


5 


It  was  halfway  through  the  first  term  of  Mr.  Verdant 
Green's  University  existence,  and  he  was  still,  in  every 
sense  of  the  word,  an  Oxford  Freshman.  It  was  not  so 
very  many  weeks  since  that  memorable  day  on  which  he 
and  his  father  had  travelled  up  from  the  Manor  Green, 


Warwickshire,  and,  on  the  outside  of  the  Oxford  coach, 
had  formed  their  first  acquaintance  with  little  Mr. 
Bouncer  and  other  Oxford  men,  some  of  whom  were 
destined  to  be  better  known  to  him  in  his  University 
career.  In  the  interval  since  that  day,  the  casual 
acquaintanceship  of  the  coach-journey  had  ripened  into 
an  intimacy  that  was  fast  settling  into  firm  friendship. 
Mr.  Verdant  Green  had  gone  through  his  intuition  as  an 
Oxford  Freshman  so  meekly  and  with  such  good 
humour,  that  Mr.  Charles  Larkyns,  and  many  others 
besides  Mr.  Bouncer,  had  taken  very  kindly  to  him,  and 
were  disposed  to  spare  him  when  the  temptation  offered 
itself  to  make  fresh  attempts  upon  his  credulity.  But, 


6  LITTLE  MR.   BOUNCER 

although  he  had  gained  a  certain  amount  of  experience 
that  would  prove  of  great  value  to  him  in  his  future  life, 
he  had  abundance  yet  to  learn  in  that  most  difficult  yet 
useful  study;  and  it  was  fated  that  little  Mr.  Bouncer 
should  be  one  of  his  preceptors. 

"  Hullo,  Giglamps !  "  he  cried,  as  Mr.  Filcher  left  the 
room,  "  here  we  are  again  !  how  were  you  to-morrow,  as 
the  Clown  says  in  the  Pantermine  ?  You  look  peakyish. 
What's  the  row?  " 

"  I  did  not  feel  quite  the  thing;  so,  I  thought  I  would 
not  go  to  Chapel  or  Lectures ;  and  Robert  sent  in  an 
^Eger  for  me,"  replied  Mr.  Verdant  Green. 

"What !  cut  Chapel  and  posted  an  .^Eger,  for  the  second 
time  in  one  week ;  and  you  only  in  your  first  term  !  " 
cried  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  with  something  like  admiration 
in  his  tone.  "  Ton  my  word,  young  'un,  you  're  coming 
it  strong.  Perhaps  it 's  a  deep-laid  scheme  of  yours  to 
post  a  heap  of  JEgers  while  you  're  a  Freshman,  and 
then  to  get  better  and  better  every  term,  and  make  the 
Dons  think  that  you  are  improving  the  shining  hours  by 
doing  Chapels  and  Lectures  more  regularly.  Artful 
Giglamps !  "  Here  Mr.  Bouncer's  attention  was  dis 
tracted  by  his  dogs.  "  Huz  !  you  troublesome  beggar, 
lie  down,  and  don't  worry  the  gentleman's  calves  and 
make  yourself  generally  disagreeable.  Buz  !  drop  that, 
you  little  wretch ;  or  I  '11  know  the  reason  why." 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Mr.  Verdant  Green ;  "  it 's  only  a 
slipper  that  my  sister  Mary  worked  for  me.  He  won't 
hurt  it." 

"  Won't  he?"  cried  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  who  evidently 
knew  his  dog's  propensities.  "  It 's  Berlin  wool,  ain't  it? 
If  so,  he'll  soon  make  it  like  Uncle  Ned's  head,  and  it'll 
have  no  wool  on  the  top,  just  the  place  where  the  wool 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  / 

ought  to  grow.  But,  it 's  his  education  that  does  it.  Once 
bring  up  a  dog  to  worry  rats  out  of  a  Wellington  boot, 
and  it  demoralises  him  for  his  place  in  society  as  a  com 
panion  and  friend  of  man.  He  thinks  that  every  slipper 
contains  nothing  less  than  a  mouse.  Now,  Buz !  drop 
it."  Little  Mr.  Bouncer  reduced  his  dogs  into  a  state  of 
comparative  subordination ;  and  then,  turning  to  Mr. 
Verdant  Green,  who  was  looking  somewhat  disconsolate, 
said,  "  I  say,  old  fellow,  how  peaky  you  seem !  You 
look  as  if  you  had  been  at  a  tea-fight  or  a  muffin-worry, 
and  had  taken  more  hot  toast  than  was  good  for  your 
digestion,  What's  the  matter?" 

"  Oh,  nothing  very  particular,"  replied  Mr.  Verdant 
Green,  although  in  a  tone  that  implied  the  contrary  to 
be  the  case. 

"  What !  not  tell  it  to  its  faithful  Bouncer !  Oh,  what 
base  ingratitude  is  here  !  Make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  old 
fellow,  and  then  I'll  see  if  I  can  minister  to  a  mind 
diseased,  as  some  cove  says  in  Shikspur." 

And  little  Mr.  Bouncer  puffed  at  his  cigar,  hit  the 
obtrusive  Buz  with  his  post-ho*n,  and  awaited  Mr.  Ver 
dant  Green's  explanation. 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


CHAPTER   II. 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER  EXTRACTS  FROM  MR.  VERDANT 
GREEN  THE  CAUSE  OF  HIS  DESPONDENCY. 


OW  then !  spit  it  out, 
Giglamps!"  said  little 
Mr.  Bouncer,  as  he  sat 
on  the  edge  of  a  table, 
and  puffed  his  cigar. 

Thus  encouraged,  Mr. 
Verdant  Green  made  a 
sudden  and  desperate 
plunge  into  the  deep 
waters  of  his  trouble. 
"  I  Ve  been  persuaded 
to  make  a  book." 

"What!  to  come  the 
literary  dodge  and  do 
the  complete  author? 
Well!  I  did  n't  think 

it  was  in  you,  any  more  than  rat-hunting  is  in  a  lamb. 
And  what  is  it  to  be  called?  Is  it  to  be  the  Whole 
Duty  of  Man  style,  as  applied  to  Freshmen  in  general 
and  Verdant  Green  in  particular?  or,  is  it  to  be  some 
thing  facetious,  '  Grins  by  Giglamps/  or  something  of 
that  sort?  What 's  the  book  about?  " 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  9 

"  It 's  about  the  Derby,"  said  Mr.  Verdant  Green, 
with  a  heavy  sigh. 

"  About  the  Derby !  Oh !  that 's  the  sort  of  book,  is 
it?  I  see,  now,  which  way  the  wind  lies."  Little  Mr. 
Bouncer  gave  a  meditative  and  prolonged  whistle,  which, 
being  mistaken  for  a  signal  by  Huz  and  Buz,  imme 
diately  sent  them  on  a  vain  quest  for  rats  in  every  cor 
ner  of  the  room.  "A  book  about  the  Derby!  "  said 
the  little  gentleman,  when,  by  the  aid  of  thwacks  from 
his  post-horn,  he  had  reduced  his  dogs  to  a  deceitful 
tranquillity  similar  to  that  of  a  volcano  before  eruption; 
"  why  Giglamps,  you  could  just  as  soon  write  '  Paradise 
Lost,'  like  that  mute,  inglorious  Milton  did." 

"  I  Ve  lost  my  paradise  —  at  any  rate,  my  peace  of 
mind,"  groaned  Mr.  Verdant  Green,  too  occupied  by  his 
own  thoughts  to  take  notice  of  the  false  application  of 
his  friend's  quotation. 

"  Tell  me  how  it  all  came  about,  and  I  '11  see  if  I  can 
help  you,"  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  after  some  thoughtful 
pulls  at  his  cigar.  "  Two  heads  are  better  than  one, 
although  mine  's  but  an  addled  one.  The  fact  is,  I  'd 
too  much  pap  when  I  was  a  baby,  and  it  got  into  my 
noddle.  But,  how  was  it?  " 

"You  know  Blucher  Boots?  —  the  Honourable 
Blucher  Boots,  son  of  Lord  Balmoral?  "  added  Mr. 
Verdant  Green  in  explanation. 

"Know  him!"  cried  little  Mr.  Bouncer;  "yes!  who 
doesn't  know  him?  Although  he's  Honourable  by 
name,  he  's  not  by  nature.  He 's  as  genuine  a  cad  as 
was  ever  pupped ;  and  if  some  feller  would  give  him  a 
good  licking,  and  take  the  conceit  out  of  him,  it  would 
be  a  public  benefit.  And  did  he  help  you  to  make  your 
book  on  the  Derby,  Giglamps?  " 


IO  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

"He  did,"  replied  the  other.  "At  least  he  made  it 
all  himself;  for  I  did  not  understand  anything  about  it. 
I  never  saw  a  horse-race,  and  have  never  been  accustomed 
to  read  much  about  them ;  and  I  am  quite  ignorant  about 
taking  bets,  and  laying  odds,  and  all  that  sort  of  things ; 
so  Blucher  Boots  undertook  to  make  what  he  called  a 
book  for  me." 

"  I  see  !  "  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer  ;  "  it 's  like  the  old 
rhyme  — '  Who  '11  make  his  book  ?  I,  says  the  Rook.' 
And  Blucher  Boots  is  a  regular  rook.  He  'd  bet  with 
his  own  grandmother,  if  he  could,  and  would  cheat  her 
out  of  every  penny  if  he  could  get  on  her  blind  side. 
He  's  a  nice  young  man  for  a  small  tea-party,  I  don't 
think.  The  less  you  have  to  do  with  him  the  better, 
Giglamps.  Now  let's  hear  all  about  it.  Where  did  you 
tumble  up  against  him?" 

"  I  met  Mr.  Flexible  Shanks,  Lord  Buttonhole's  son, 
at  Fosbrooke's  wine  party,"  replied  Mr.  Verdant  Green, 
"  and  he  very  kindly  asked  me  to  come  to  his  rooms, 
and  I  went;  and  there  I  met  Blucher  Boots,  and  he 
invited  me  to  breakfast  with  him  the  next  morning,  and 
I  accepted,  and  went." 

"  That  little  pig  went  to  market,  and  this  little  pig 
stayed  at  home !  "  sang  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  in  a  voice 
that  was  almost  too  much  for  the  feelings  of  Huz  and 
Buz,  who  gave  vent  to  their  emotions  by  smothered 
growls.  "  It  would  have  been  better  for  you,  Giglamps, 
if  you  stayed  at  home  with  this  little  pig  —  meaning  me 
—  and  not  have  gone  to  Blucher  Boots's  breakfast." 

"  I  went,"  said  Verdant,  simply,  "  because  I  thought  it 
a  great  compliment  to  be  invited  to  the  rooms  of  two 
sons  of  noblemen,  when  I  was  not  previously  known  to 
them,  and  was  only  a  Freshman." 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  II 

"  Precisely  !  "  rejoined  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  "  I  '11  say 
nothing  against  Flexible  Shanks,  for  he 's  a  regular 
brick ;  but  I  expect  it  was  because  you  were  a  Freshman 
that  Blucher  Boots  asked  you." 

"  But,  at  any  rate,  it  was  very  friendly  and  polite  of 
him  to  invite  me  to  breakfast,"  argued  Mr.  Verdant 
Green,  who  would  have  wished  it  to  be  thought  that  the 
attentions  of  Lord  Balmoral's  son  were  due  solely  to  his 
personal  merits,  and  were  not  to  be  attributed  to  the 
fact  of  his  being  a  Freshman. 

"  And  so  you  went,"  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  "  with 
the  tear  of  gratitude  in  your  eye,  and  a  burst  of  loyalty 
in  your  bosom.  Well,  and  what  then?  Cut  along,  my 
hearty." 

"  After  breakfast,"  continued  Verdant,  "  the  men 
gradually  went  away;  but  he  asked  me  to  stop,  and  have 
a  weed  with  him ;  and  I  did  so,  because  I  was  all  right 
for  Lectures,  having  posted  an  ^Eger." 

"Posted  an  ^Eger ! "  echoed  Mr.  Bouncer.  "My 
gum,  Giglamps,  you  're  coming  it,  for  a  Freshman.  You 
pretend  to  be  ^Eger,  or  sick  and  peaky,  when  you  're  in 
robust  health.  And  then,  after  your  ^Eger  breakfast  — 
where,  of  course,  you  behaved  yourself  like  a  sick  man 
ought  to  do,  and  had  nothing  but  tea  and  dry  toast  — 
what  came  next?  " 

"  Then  Blucher  Boots  and  I  were  left  alone,  and  h« 
was  very  friendly  and  pleasant,  and  asked  me  about 
Warwickshire,  and  places  that  I  knew;  and  his  claret- 
cup  was  very  nice ;  and  he  talked  a  good  deal  about 
horses  and  races,  and  the  odds." 

"  Odd  if  he  would  n't !  "  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  puff 
ing  at  his  cigar ;  "  I  know  his  horsey  proclivities.  And 
then  he  offered  to  make  your  Derby  book?  " 


12  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

"  Well,"  replied  Mr.  Verdant  Green  —  as  people  often 
do  when  they  are  speaking  of  something  that  is  not  at 
all  well,  but  bad  —  "  something  like  it.  He  told  me  that 
he  had  a  friend  who  had  been  kind  enough  to  tell  him, 
quite  in  confidence,  which  horse  is  to  win  the  Derby. 
It  is  not  the  favourite ;  but  it  is  a  horse  that,  at  present, 
is  not  much  talked  about.  He  said  it  was  a  dark  horse; 
but  whether  a  black  or  a  brown,  I  don't  know." 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer  involuntarily  winked  his  eye,  and 
smiled,  as  though  he  would  direct  an  imaginary  com 
panion's  attention,  and  say,  "  Oh,  here  's  a  go  !  "  but  his 
Freshman  friend  was  too  much  engaged  in  his  narrative 
to  notice  the  action. 

"  And  Blucher  Boots'  friend,"  continued  Verdant, 
"  has  kept  his  eye  on  the  horse  for  a  long  time,  and  has 
seen  him  tried  on  a  private  course,  and  is  in  a  particular 
position  to  obtain  correct  information  on  the  subject. 
And  Blucher  Boots  himself  has  seen  this  dark  horse, 
whose  name  I  may  tell  you  —  but  of  course,  in  the 
strictest  confidence." 

"  Of  course  !  the  very  strictest  of  the  strict,  Gig] amps  ! 
I  '11  be  as  dark  as  the  horse." 

"  His  name  is  '  The  Knight.'  " 

"  That  Knight  ought  to  be  ridden  by  Day,  ought  n't 
he?  Oh,  Day  and  Knight,  but  this  is  wondrous  strange  ! 
•as  Shikspur  says."  And  the  countenance  of  little  Mr. 
Bouncer,  as  he  watched  Mr.  Verdant  Green,  was  quite  a 
study. 

"  And,"  continued  that  innocent  gentleman,  "  Blucher 
Boots,  to  use  his  own  expression;  is  sweet  upon  The 
Knight,  and  is  firmly  convinced  that  no  other  horse,  not 
even  the  favourite,  has  the  slightest  chance  to  win  the 
race  from  him.  So  that  he  is  going  to  support  him  to 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  13 

the  best  of  his  ability,  and  said  that  he  should  put  a  pot 
of  money  on  him  —  an  expression  that  I  do  not  fully 
comprehend." 

"  It  means,"  explained  Mr.  Bouncer,  "  that  the  money 
he  will  bet  on  the  dark  horse  will  go  to  the  pot  —  that  is, 
will  be  all  U.  P.  and  done  for;  like  classical  parties,  who, 
when  dead,  were  burnt,  and  had  their  ashes  put  into  pots 
or  urns."  The  little  gentleman  knocked  off  the  ash  of 
his  cigar,  and  asked,  "  And  what  did  B.  B.,  which  stands 
for  Bad  Boy,  do  then  ?  " 

"Why,  then  he  spoke  about  having  made  his  book 
for  the  Derby,  and  that  he  had  done  it  so  cleverly,  and 
on  such  a  sure  plan,  that  he  must  be  a  gainer  even  if  The 
Knight  did  not  win;  although  he  thought  such  an  event, 
was  an  impossibility.  And  then  he  offered  to  show  me 
how  to  make  a  book ;  and  I  tried  to  comprehend  him, 
but  I  could  not  do  so ;  although  I  fear  that  I  gave  him 
to  understand  that  his  explanations  were  quite  clear  to 
me.  And  he  rather  confused  me  by  referring  to  a 
sweep ;  and  although  I  knew  that,  on  a  race-course, 
people  must  meet  with  all  sorts  of  queer  characters,  yet 
I  thought  it  rather  odd  that  a  nobleman's  son  should 
appear  to  be  so  familiar  with  a  sweep.  And  he  strongly 
advised  me  to  do  what  seemed  to  me  a  very  strange 
thing ;  and  that  was,  to  join  him  in  a  sweep." 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer  chuckled  to  himself,  and  said,  "  I 
suppose,  Giglamps,  you  took  him  for  a  cannibal  of  the 
Fa-fe-fi-fo-fum  species;  and,  if  you  did,  old  fellow, 
you'd  not  be  very  far  off  the  mark;  for  Blucher  Boots 
would  pick  your  bones  as  clean  as  a  chicken,  and  get 
every  shilling  out  of  your  pocket.  He 's  so  hard  up 
that  he  can  scarcely  rub  two  half-crowns  against  each 
other,  and  a  sovereign  might  dance  in  his  pocket  with- 


14  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

out  breaking  its  shins.     Did    he   get  anything  out  of 
you?" 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  he  did,"  sighed  Mr.  Verdant 
Green,  with  a  retrospective  glance  at  his  past  conduct. 
"  He  talked  to  me  so  much  about  my  Derby  book,  and 
joining  him  in  the  sweep,  and  other  things  which  I 
could  not  properly  understand  —  and  he  put  it  to  me 
in  so  many  ways  about  the  great  advantages  that  I 
should  secure  by  backing  The  Knight  at  long  odds,  — 
I  think  that  was  his  expression  —  that,  at  last,  when  he 
asked  me  if  I  could  oblige  him  with  change  for  a  five- 
pound  note  "  — 

"  I  'm  interrupting    you,"    said   little    Mr.    Bouncer ; 
."but,  did  you  see  that  five-pound  note,  Giglamps?" 

"  No ;  I  did  not." 

"  If  you  had,  you  would  have  seen  what  his  creditors 
have  not  yet  been  privileged  to  witness,  much  less  to 
handle,"  observed  Mr.  Bouncer.  "  Well,  young  'un, 
go  ahead !  " 

"  And  I  told  him  that  I  could  not  change  him  the 
note;  for,  curiously  enough,  I  myself  wanted  change  for 
a  five-pound  note ;  my  papa  —  I  mean,  my  Governor  — 
having,  that  morning,  sent  me,  in  a  letter,  three  five- 
pound  notes.  And,  when  Blucher  Boots  asked  if  I  had 
got  the  notes  with  me,  I  said  '  Oh,  yes !  '  and  pulled 
them  out  of  my  pocket-book.  And  he  said  that  they 
had  been  sent  most  opportunely,  and  that  I  could  n't 
do  better  than  to  let  him  lay  them  out  for  me ;  and  that 
they  would  bring  me  in  ever  so  much  more.  And  he, 
in  fact  —  that  is  to  say,"  stammered  >Mr.  Verdant  Green, 
as  he  somewhat  hesitated  to  make  a  full  disclosure  of 
the  truth,  even  to  his  friend  —  "  in  short  —  I  —  at  last  I 
handed  them  to  him." 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  15 

"  What !  you  gave  Blucher  Boots  the  three  five-pound 
notes?  My  gum,  Giglamps!  "  Little  Mr.  Bouncer  did 
not  say  much.  Perhaps,  like  the  monkeys,  he  thought 
the  more.  There  was  a  silence  for  a  few  minutes.  Mr. 


Verdant  Green  sat  in  a  dejected  posture,  with  his  head 
leaning  upon  his  hand.  Mr.  Bouncer  puffed  savagely 
at  his  cigar;  flung  the  stump  out  of  the  window;  hit 
Buz  abstractedly,  yet  sharply,  with  his  post-horn,  caus 
ing  that  canine  monster  to  show  his  teeth  in  a  highly 
threatening  way;  and,  at  length,  said,  "  I  don't  wonder, 
Giglamps,  that  you  look  in  a  blue  funk !  " 

Although  Mr.  Verdant  Green  attached  very  indefinite 
ideas  as  to  the  nature  and  sensations  of  a  "  blue  funk  " 


1 6  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

—  a  subject  on  which  Gainsborough's  "  Blue  Boy " 
might  have  been  able  to  throw  some  light  —  yet,  the 
phrase  sounded  ominously  in  his  ears,  and,  if  possible, 
plunged  him  yet  deeper  into  the  deep  waters  of  his 
trouble. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  17 


CHAPTER  III. 

LITTLE  MR.   BOUNCER    TAKES   MEASURES   TO   BEFRIEND 
MR.   VERDANT   GREEN. 

.ECOVERING  somewhat  from  the 
prostration  of  that  "  blue  funk  " 
with  which,  according  to  little  Mr. 
Bouncer,  Mr.  Verdant  Green  ap 
peared  to  be  overcome,  the  Oxford 
Freshman  resumed  his  explana 
tion,  mingled  with  an  apology  for 
the  conduct  both  of  himself  and  Mr.  Blucher  Boots. 

"  He  only  borrowed  those  three  five-pound  notes : 
they  were  not  for  himself,  you  must  understand;  but 
were  for  my  own  Derby  book,  and  were  to  be  used  in 
bets  on  my  behalf.  Blucher  Boots  said  that  he  was 
quite  sure  of  winning.  He  had  calculated  the  odds 
according  to  mathematical  rules;  and,  whether  The 
Knight  won  or  lost,  he  himself  would  be  a  winner, 
and,  of  course,  I  should  go  shares  with  him.  And,  it 
seemed  to  be  such  a  good  chance  of  gaining  twenty  or 
thirty  pounds,  which,  he  said,  would  be  the  very  least 
that  I  should  receive  —  although  there  was  every  prob 
ability  that  I  should  win  as  much  as  seventy  or  eighty 
pounds  if  The  Knight  came  in  first,  which  Blucher 
Boots  said  he  would  be  sure  to  do  —  that,"  continued 
Mr.  Verdant  Green,  somewhat  incoherently,  "  I  saw  it 


1 8  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

was  such  a  good  opportunity  —  and  the  money  would 
have  been  so  nice  —  and  I  could  have  bought  such 
handsome  presents  to  take  home  to  my  sisters  —  and, 
you  must  remember,  that  I  had  all  the  benefits  of 
Blucher  Boots'  superior  knowledge  —  and  he  is  Lord 
Balmoral's  son,  you  know — and  he  said  something 
about  my  being  just  the  sort  of  man  that  his  father 
would  like  to  be  introduced  to  —  and  he  hinted  at  my 
coming  to  see  them  at  Wellington  House  in  the  Long 
Vacation  —  and  he  seemed  so  civil  and  friendly  —  and 
it  is  for  me  that  he  is  investing  the  fifteen  pounds,  and 
not  for  himself,  you  understand  " 

"  Oh  !  I  understand  perfectly,"  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer, 
cutting  his  friend  short;  "  and  Blucher  Boots  shall  find 
it  another  pair  of  shoes  before  I  Ve  done  with  him. 
Oh,  Giglamps  !  what  would  your  respected  parients  say, 
if  they  knew  that  you  'd  made  a  book  on  the  Derby, 
and  been  and  gone  and  done  it  after  this  fashion? 
Your  Governor  don't.bet  on  races,  does  he?  " 

"Oh,  no!  I'm  sure  he  does  not!"  responded  Mr. 
Verdant  Green,  heartily,  as  his  thoughts  fled  back  to 
his  home  at  the  Manor  Green,  Warwickshire,  and 
pictured  the  form  of  his  father,  sitting  tranquilly,  after 
breakfast,  and  reading  his  letters  and  morning  news 
paper  in  slippered  ease. 

"  And,"  continued  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  assuming  the 
air  of  a  Mentor,  "  I  'm  equally  sure  that  he  would  n't 
like  his  only  son  and  heir  to  do  so." 

"  I  'm  quite  sure  about  that,"  said  Verdant,  confi 
dently  ;  "  and  I  'm  very  sorry  now  that  I  have  given 
away  those  three  five-pound  notes,  and  have  been  in 
duced  to  make  bets  on  The  Knight.  And  the  fact  is, 
that  it  is  fretting  me  very  much." 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN. 


"  Well,  don't  fret  yourself  into  fiddle-strings,  old 
fellow! "said  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  encouragingly;  "that 
won't  mend  matters.  I  '11  see  what  can  be  done  to 
pull  you  out  of  the  mire.  You  trust  to  your  faithful 
Bouncer  to  get  you  out  of  the  pickle,  if  it  can  anyhow 
be  managed." 

"Perhaps  I  had  better  go  to  Blucher  Boots,  and  see 
what  can  be  done?"  timidly  suggested  Mr.  Verdant 
Green. 

"  Perhaps  you  had  better  do  nothing  of  the  sort," 
promptly  rejoined  Mr.  Bouncer.  "  If  you  open  your 
mouth,  you  are  sure  to 
put  your  foot  into  it. 
No,  my  tulip !  you 
leave  it  to  yours  truly ; 
and  I'll  do  my  possi 
bles,  as  the  Parley- 
voos  say,  to  act  as 
your  confidential 
agent  and  go-between 
in  setting  matters 
straight.  But,  I  tell 
you  plainly,  Giglamps, 

if  this   sort  of  thing  goes  on,  it  can   only  end  in  one 
way." 

"What  way?  "  asked  Verdant,  anxiously. 

"Why,  this  way!  you'll  run  a  fearful  mucker,"  re 
plied  Mr.  Bouncer,  seritentiously.  "  Come  along,  Huz 
and  Buz,  and  I  '11  shut  you  up  in  the  little  shop  for  coal, 
while  I  go  and  see  Blucher  Boots.  Ta,  ta !  Giglamps ! 
Keep  up  your  pecker."  And  little  Mr.  Bouncer  took 
himself,  and  his  dogs,  and  his  post -horn,  out  of  the 
room,  with  no  small  noise  from  his  canine  pets,  and 


20  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

with  a  piercing  fanfare  from  his  unmusical  instrument, 
which  was  heard  sounding  octaves  all  down  the  stair 
case,  and  out  into  the  quad. 

Left  to  his  solitude,  Mr.  Verdant  Green  made  himself 
a  very  strong  cup  of  tea  —  an  accomplishment  in  which 
he  was  now  tolerably  perfect,  thanks  to  the  lessons  in 
the  science  that  he  had  received  from  his  old  bedmaker, 
Mrs.  Tester ;  and  as  he  sat  over  the  steaming  beverage, 
it  painfully  occurred  to  him  that  he  also,  like  his  tea, 
was,  metaphorically,  in  a  stew  and  in  hot  water.  He 
did  not  attach  any  very  definite  meanings  to  those  two 
phrases  of  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  which  had  reference  to 
his  being  in  "  a  blue  funk,"  and  hinted  at  the  probability 
of  his  "running  a  fearful  mucker;  "  but  although  he 
was  unable  to  grasp  the  full  signification  of  the  Oriental 
imagery  of  his  friend's  expressions,  yet,  undoubtedly, 
they  sounded  far  from  reassuring,  and  did  not  tend  to 
add  to  his  comfort.  Nor  did  he  feel  any  happier  when 
he  conjured  up  a  gloomy  series  of  mental  pictures, 
which  passed  before  his  mind's  eye  in  fantastic  phan 
tasmagorias,  and  showed  him  what  the  inhabitants  of 
the  Manor  Green  would  think,  and  feel,  and  say,  and 
do,  if  they  only  knew  the  course  that  the  hope  of  their 
house  was  pursuing;  and  that,  in  his  Freshman's  term, 
he  had  already  begun  to  bet  on  horse-races  and  make 
a  book  on  the  Derby.  What  would  his  father  say  to 
those  three  five-pound  notes  being  handed  over  to  the 
custody  of  Mr.  Blucher  Boots?  What  would  his  good 
mother  think  of  his  backing  a  dark  horse  —  supposing 
that  she  could  understand  such  'a  phrase?  Would 
his  sisters  be  disposed  to  exculpate  his  conduct,  in  con 
sideration  that  it  had  made  him  the  friend  of  a  noble 
man's  son,  with  a  possible  introduction  to  Wellington 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  21 

House?  And  would  his  aunt,  Miss  Virginia  Verdant, 
be  able  to  comprehend  the  darkness  of  the  case  when 
she  was  told  the  startling  intelligence  that  her  nephew 
had  "joined  in  a  sweep  "? 

Alas,  that  sweep  !  it  was  an  atra  cura  to  Mr.  Verdant 
Green  —  a  black  care  that  rode  behind  the  horseman 
and  crouched  astern  the  jockey  on 
the  crupper  of  "The  Knight."  He 
began  to  feel  that  he  was  indeed  be 
ginning  to  run  that  fearful  mucker 
of  which  Mr.  Bouncer  had  spoken ; 
and  he  knew  that  such  a  race  would 
be  one  that  would  be  all  downhill  in 
facile  descent  to  Avernus,  and  to  a 
precipice  of  danger  and  disgrace.  Who  should  tell  to 
what  conclusion  his  book  on  the  Derby  would  lead,  and 
what  would  be  its  Finis  ?  Could  he  look  with  pleasure 
to  the  last  page  of  its  third  volume,  or  anticipate  its  end 
with  satisfaction?  Better  to  shut  up  its  pages,  and  to 
fling  the  book  into  the  fire,  lest  his  own  fingers  and 
pockets  should  be  burnt ! 

As  such  reflections  coursed  through  his  mind,  he  felt 
as  miserable  as  he  did  when,  not  many  weeks  before, 
he  had  sat  by  his  window,  after  his  father  had  left  him, 
while  the  strains  of  "  Home,  Sweet  Home,"  from  a  Ger 
man  band  playing  just  outside  the  college  gates,  were 
borne  to  his  ears,  and  reduced  him  to  a  melting  mood ; 
'so  that,  when  Mr.  Robert  Filcher  came  into  the  room, 
he  found  his  new  master  busily  engaged  in  wiping  his 
spectacles.  Although  it  could  not  be  affirmed  on  the 
present  occasion  that  when  the  scout  returned  to  take 
away  the  breakfast  things,  he  discovered  Mr.  Verdant 
Green  in  the  act  of  removing  tears  from  his  glasses,  yet 


22 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


that  gentleman's  eyes  certainly  seemed  to  be  somewhat 
moist,  and,  altogether,  he  looked  like  a  knight  of  the 
rueful  countenance.  But,  as  yet,  he  was  only  a  Fresh 
man  ;  and  he  had  many  things  to  learn,  not  only  in  a 
pleasant  Oxford  college,  but  also  in  the  stern  school  of 
Experience,  whose  discipline,  though  hard,  is  salutary. 

Meanwhile,   little  Mr.  Bouncer  was  as  good  as  his 
word,  and  at  once  took  active  measures  to  extricate  his 

friend  from  the  pitfall  into 
which  he  had  been  lured 
by  one  who  had  proved 
himself  to  be  too  astute  and 
cunning  for  the  simple  na 
ture  of  the  other  who  had 
so  readily  fallen  into  his 
toils.  Placing  Huz  and  Buz 
in  the  coal  cupboard  just 
outside  his  door,  and  giving 
them,  for  their  amusement, 
an  old  Wellington  boot,  out 
of  which,  during  his  ab 
sence,  they  could  hunt 
imaginary  rats,  Mr.  Bouncer 
put  up  his  post-horn,  and 
thrust  his  arms  into  that 
ragged  and  scanty  garment, 
furnished  with  a  lappet  and  two  streamers,  which  the 
little  gentleman  called  his  "  tail-curtain,"  but  which  the 
academical  authorities  would  have  termed  his  under 
graduate's  gown.  It  was  needful  for  him  to  assume  this 
elegant  costume  as  he  had  to  leave  Brazenface  and  walk 
up  the  High  Street  before  he  could  reach  the  particular 
college  which  Lord  Balmoral's  son  honoured  with  his 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  23 

presence ;  and,  as  the  time  had  not  yet  reached  the 
afternoon's  hours,  when  caps  and  gowns  might  be  dis 
pensed  with  in  public  —  the  members  of  the  various 
Colleges  being  then  supposed  to  be  leaving  the  city  for 
a  country  walk,  or  for  the  river  and  cricket-field  and 
other  sports  —  including  the  hunting  of  rats  and  the 
shooting  of  pigeons  and  rabbits  —  Mr.  Bouncer  was 
compelled,  through  fear  of  being  proctorised,  to  "  sport 
a  tail-curtain."  If  it  did  not  improve  his  appearance, 
that  was  not  his  fault,  but  was  a  matter  for  the  rulers 
of  the  University  to  rescind  their  statute  "  De  Vestitu" 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  after  he  had  left  Mr.  Verdant 
Green's  rooms,  little  Mr.  Bouncer  was  knocking  at  a 
certain  door  on  a  particular  staircase,  where,  as  he  had 
ascertained  from  the  porter  at  the  lodge  of  the  College, 
the  person  of  whom  he  was  in  quest  "  hung  out;  "  so,  at 
least,  Mr.  Bouncer  phrased  Mr.  Blucher  Boots'  tenancy 
of  the  rooms  in  question. 

"  If  he  thinks  it 's  the  woodpecker  tapping,  he  '11  be 
slightly  deceived,"  said  Mr.  Bouncer  to  himself. 

"  Come  in  !  "  was  shouted  from  withinside  the  room ; 
and  Mr.  Bouncer  went  in. 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


CHAPTER   IV. 


LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER  TROUBLES  THE  HON.  BLUCHER 
BOOTS  FOR  AN  EXPLANATION. 

HE  room  into  which  little 
Mr.  Bouncer  passed  was 
not  a  room  that  was  "  hung 
around  with  pikes  and  guns 
and  bows,"  like  to  that  of 
the  famous  Fine  Old  Eng 
lish  Gentleman  of  the 
national  song,  but  it  was 
furnished  after  the  fashion 
of  a  room  belonging  to  a 
young  English  gentleman 
of  the  modern  time  —  more 
especially  of  that  particu 
lar  species  of  gentleman  which  is  known  as  the  Oxford 
Undergraduate.  There  certainly  were  "  bows "  in  the 
room ;  for  archery  was  then  in  fashion,  especially  at 
those  colleges  that  possessed  extensive  lawns ;  and  the 
Hon.  Blucher  Boots,  as  befitting  a  son  of  Lord  Balmo 
ral,  was  not  to  be  behind  in  the  fashions  of  the  day. 
But,  instead  of  "pikes  and  guns,"  there  were  pipes 
and  meerschaums  arranged  on  either  side  the  fireplace, 
on  fanciful  shields  carved  and  emblazoned  by  Mar- 
getts.  And  there  were  numerous  sporting  prints,  and 


AND  HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  25 

coloured  hunting  scenes,  and  Landseer's  animals,  and 
pretty  feminine  inanities,  all  in  elegant  gilt  frames,  from 
Ryman's  or  Wyatt's ;  and  there  were  handscreens  and 
fancy  articles  in  papier  macht,  on  which  the  artists  of 
Messrs.  Spiers  and  Son  had  drawn  the  glories  of  Ox 
ford  from  their  most  picturesque  points  of  view;  and 
there  were  Parian  statuettes,  and  vases,  and  china ;  and 
there  were  handsomely-bound  volumes  on  rows  of 
oaken  book-shelves ;  and  there  were  two  or  three  pairs 
of  antlers  (convenient  for  the  support  of  riding-whips, 
walking-sticks,  and  such  like),  the  owners  of  which 
had  fallen  to  Mr.  Blucher  Boots'  unerring  rifle,  at  Glen- 
slipper,  his  father's  shooting-box  in  Perthshire. 

The  furniture  of  the  room  was  an  evidence  that  the 
occupant  was  a  person  of  aesthetical  tastes;  and  that  he 
was  either  wealthy  or  was  in  a  position  to  obtain  unlimited 
credit  for  the  various  articles  that  he  had  gathered  around 
him.  If  the  son  of  a  Commoner  has  facilities  for  doing 
so,  the  son  of  a  Peer  finds  himself  indulged  to  an  extent 
that  is  seductive  and  dangerous ;  and  Oxford  tradesmen 
are  almost  the  last  persons  who  should  be  blamed  for 
the  evils  of  the  credit  system.  Very  often  they  them 
selves  are  the  sufferers,  and  find  that  they  have  fallen 
victims  to  one  who  is,  legally,  "  an  infant." 

The  Hon.  Blucher  Boots  himself  was  one  of  these 
legal  infants,  and,  physically  speaking,  was  a  tolerably 
fine  specimen  of  the  infant  race.  When,  in  compliance 
with  his  call  "  Come  in  !  "  little  Mr.  Bouncer  entered  his 
room,  he  was  sitting  in  one  of  his  numerous  easy-chairs, 
"  in  gorgeous  array,"  like  Villikins'  Dinah,  with  a  scarlet 
Turkish  fez  on  his  head,  and  a  crimson-and-blue-striped 
dressing-gown  belted  round  his  waist,  the  while  he 
smoked  a  short  black  pipe  and  consulted  a  "  Racing 


26 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


Calendar."  He  was  by  no  means  an  ill-looking  young 
man,  although  during  his  interview  with  Mr.  Bouncer, 
his  countenance  could  assume  an  expression  that  was 
the  very  reverse  of  prepossessing. 

"  Good   morning ! "   said   little    Mr.   Bouncer,    as   he 


closed  the  door  behind  him.  "  I  'm  lucky  to  find  you 
in ;  and  not  only  in,  but  alone." 

"  The  luck  's  all  on  your  side,"  sharply  rejoined  the 
other,  who  seemed  to  sniff  a  coming  breeze. 

"  Then  I  '11  make  the  most  of  my  luck,"  said  the 
intruder,  as  he  flourished  his  battered  cap  by  its  tassel. 
"  My  name  is  Bouncer  on  the  Grampian  Hills,  and  also 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  27 

ir/  Oxford  —  see  Gazetteers  and  County  Directories, 
passim.  Henry  Bouncer  is  my  name ;  England  is  my 
nation;  Brazenface  is  my  dwelling  place.  You  may 
have  heard  of  me  in  the  pages  of  History,  although  you 
don't  seem  to  know  me." 

"  Don't  know  you  from  Adam,"  said  Mr.  Blucher 
Boots,  stolidly. 

"Did  you  mention  the  name  of  Adam?  I'm  not 
acquainted  with  that  party,  so  can't  tell  if  there  's  any 
likeness  between  us,"  replied  little  Mr.  Bouncer. 

"  You  're  a  cool  card,"  observed  Mr.  Blucher.  Boots, 
as  he  puffed,  somewhat  savagely,  at  his  short  black 
pipe. 

"  Perhaps  so.  I  was  n't  born  in  a  hurry;  so  I  've  had 
time  to  look  about  me.  But  sitting  's  as  cheap  as  stand 
ing  ;  so,  if  it 's  all  the  same  to  you,  I  '11  sit  down  while 
we  have  our  talkee-talkee  —  unless  you  charge  for  your 
chairs,  like  those  fellows  do  in  the  Park  ;  a  penny  to  sit 
down  on  one,  tuppence  to  put  up  your  legs  on  another, 
and  no  reduction  on  taking  a  quantity." 

As  Mr.  Blucher  Boots  kept  silence  and  went  on 
smoking,  little  Mr.  Bouncer  sat  down,  and  said,  "  You 
could  remember  me,  I  dare  say,  if  you  chose  to  do  so. 
We  met ;  't  was  in  a  crowd  —  at  Fosbrooke's  rooms  — 
and  I  thought  you  had  done  me ;  I  Ve  come,  and  you 
don't  move,  though  your  eye  is  upon  me.  I  'd  my  eye 
upon  you,  that  night ;  for  I  dropped  the  best  part  of  a 
fiver  to  you,  at  Van  John,  when  you  were  slightly  lucky 
in  turning  up  aces." 

"Do  you  mean  to  insinuate" began  Lord  Bal 
moral's  son,  with  a  flushed  face  and  angry  scowl. 

"  Oh,  dear,  no !  don't  put  yourself  about,  and  get 
waxy,  and  make  yourself  as  red  as  your  fez ;  I  don't 


28 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


insinuate  anything,"  said  Mr.  Bouncer.  "  Some  people 
have  a  certain  person's  luck  ;  and  that  seemed  to  be 
your  case.  But,  it  was  not  so  much  the  aces  as  the 
betting.  You  're  a  first-rate  hand  at  laying  odds ;  I  '11 


give  you  credit  for  that ;  for  I  like  to  give  every  man  his 
due.  And  that 's  the  business  that 's  brought  me  here. 
I  think  you  know  a  Brazenface  man  of  the  name  of 
Verdant  Green?  " 

"A  Freshman?" 

"  Something  like  one.  He  is  a  particular  friend  of 
mine." 


AND    HIS   FRIEND    VERDANT  GREEN.  2Q 

"  I  can't  compliment  you  upon  your  acquaintance," 
sneered  Mr.  Blucher  Boots; 

"  Never  mind  that ;  I  don't  care  for  empty  compli 
ments,"  replied  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  sticking  up  for  his 
absent  friend.  "  Verdant  Green  's  not  at  all  a  bad  sort, 
though  a  trifle  fresh —  as  you  have  found  out.  And,  to 
come  to  the  point,  it  seems  to  me  that  you  have  been 
taking  an  undue  advantage  of  his  freshness  and 
inexperience." 

"  I  don't  know  by  what  right  you  intrude  into  my 
rooms,  and  read  me  a  lecture,"  said  Mr.  Blucher  Boots. 
"But  before  I  kick  you  out" 

"Kick  me  out?"  echoed  Mr.  Bouncer.  "Two  can 
play  at  that  game,  my  beauty ;  and  I  don't  think  your 
shoemaker  will  ever  become  acquainted  with  my  tailor." 

" you  may  as  well  enlighten  me,"  continued  Mr. 

Blucher  Boots,  puffing  at  his  pipe,  "  as  to  the  supposed 
advantage  that  I  have  taken  of  your  friend's  freshness." 

"  With  all  the  pleasure  in  the  world,"  said  Mr.  Bouncer. 
"  You  have  persuaded  my  friend,  Verdant  Green,  who 
knows  nothing  whatever  about  horse-racing,  to  make  a 
book  on  the  Derby,  and  you  have  taken  his  money  to 
invest  on  a  certain  dark  horse." 

"  What  of  that !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Blucher  Boots. 
"  Though  the  horse  is  a  comparative  outsider,  yet  he  's 
entrusted  with  good  money,  and  has  some  big  bets 
written  in  his  name.  His  stable  companion  has  been 
backed  for  a  good  amount;  but  he  's  the  better  horse  of 
the  two,  and  I  have  certain  private  information  about 
him  on  which  I  can  rely.  I  Ve  put  a  lot  of  money  on 
him  myself;  and  if  I  Ve  put  your  friend  up  to  a  good 
thing,  I  Ve  done  him  a  kindness." 

"  I  don't  see  it  in  that  light,"  said  Mr.  Bouncer;  "  and, 


30  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

on  Verdant  Green's  behalf,  I  have  come  to  request  you 
to  return  to  him  the  three  fivers  that  he  handed  to  you." 

"  I  decline  to  do  anything  of  the  kind." 

"You  do?" 

"  Most  decidedly  I  do ! "  cried  Mr.  Blucher  Boots, 
angrily.  "  And  it 's  like  your  impertinence  to  force 
yourself  into  my  rooms  and  to  make  such  a  proposition." 

"  Very  well,  then,  my  beauty,"  replied  little  Mr. 
Bouncer,  coolly,  as  he  rose  to  leave  the  room;  "then, 
having  fulfilled  my  errand,  and  got  my  answer,  I  '11  go, 
and  leave  you  to  look  out  for  squalls.  Betting  is  n't 
allowed  in  college,  as  you  are  aware ;  and,  all  that 's 
done  in  that  way  is  sub  rasa,  and  unknown  to  the  Dons. 
In  their  eyes,  bets  on  cards  would  be  bad  enough  ;  but 
bets  on  races  and  books  on  the  Derby  would  be  •  looked 
upon  as  something  more  than  peccadilloes.  As  you 
don't  choose  to  hand  back  Verdant  Green's  three  five- 
pound  notes,  I  shall  go  at  once  to  Dr.  Portman,  the 
Master  of  Brazenface,  and  lay  the  whole  affair  before 
him.  I  shall  do  the  same  by  the  Head  of  your  own 
College.  My  friend  will  get  off  very  lightly,  because 
he's  a  Freshman  and  inexperienced,  and  was  led  on  by 
you ;  but  it  will  be  a  different  thing  with  you ;  and  if, 
to-morrow  you  don't  hear  something  about  Rustication, 
then  my  name 's  not  Bouncer.  It  11  be  a  nice  thing, 
won't  it,  for  Lord  Balmoral's  hopeful  son  to  be  sent 
down  to  the  country  for  getting  a  raw  Freshman's  money 
out  of  him?  There  are  unkind  people  in  the  world  who 
would,  perhaps,  say  that  it  was  as  bad  as  fleecing  a 
Freshman ;  but,  whatever  they  may  say,  you  've  only 
yourself  to  thank  for  it.  Ta,  ta !  my  beauty.  Look  out 
for  squalls."  And  little  Mr.  Bouncer  left  the  room. 

"  Hi !  here  !  wait  a  moment,  you  sir  !  "  called  out  Mr. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  31 

Blucher  Boots,  as  he  went  to  the  door  of  his  room,  after 
a  momentary  hesitation.  "  If  your  Freshman  friend 
don't  choose  to  avail  himself  of  my  disinterested  kind 
ness,  he  's  a  fool  for  his  pains.  It  is  n't  every  one  who 
could  have  had  such  a  good  thing  offered  to  him.  If  he 
don't  like  to  post  his  money  of  course  he  can  have  it 
back  again ;  but  he  will  be  throwing  away  an  opportunity 
that  may  never  fall  in  his  way  again." 

"  I  hope  not,  with  all  my  heart,"  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer  ; 
"  so  if  you  like  to  give  him  back  the  money  he  '11  be 
quite  content  to  lose  his  chance  of  making  his  fortune 
by  your  investment.  That's  about  the  size  of  it,  I 
think."  And  they  went  back  into  the  room. 

"  There  are  the  notes,"  said  Mr.  Blucher  Boots,  as  he 
took  them  out  of  his  pocket-book;  "  and  I  hope  I  may 
never  see  your  face  again." 

"That  will  be  your  loss,"  replied  little  Mr.  Bouncer; 
"  and  it  shows  that  you  are  no  judge  of  pretty  pictures. 
Your  mug  is  none  too  handsome,  I  can  tell  you.  But, 
adoo,  Samivel !  I  Ve  got  the  three  fivers,  so  I  'm  satis 
fied.  You  can  have  a  proper  receipt  for  them,  if  you 
like." 

The  Hon.  Blucher  Boots  made  use  of  unparliamentary 
language,  under  cover  of  which  little  Mr.  Bouncer  made 
good  his  retreat,  and  returned  to  Brazenface. 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


CHAPTER  V. 

LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER    GIVES  A  BREAKFAST  PARTY. 

ERE  are  the  notes,  Giglamps,"  said 
little  Mr.  Bouncer,  as  he  re-entered 
his  friend's  room  at  Brazenface,  on 
his  return  from  the  interview  with 
the  Hon.  Blucher  Boots.  "  I  had 
a  squeeze  to  get  them ;  for  the  fel 
low  cut  up  rather  rusty.  But  here 
they  are,  and  joy  go  with  them." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  so  much !  "  cried  Verdant  Green, 
heartily,  as  he  once  more  handled  the  three  five-pound 
notes  that  had  been  entrusted  to  the  charge  of  the  son 
of  Lord  Balmoral.  "You  are  a  real  friend.  What  can 
I  do  to  repay  you?" 

"  Why  you  can  do  this,"  replied  Mr.  Bouncer.  "  In 
the  first  place,  you  must  cut  that  fellow's  acquaintance ; 
he 's  a  bad  lot,  and  will  do  you  no  good.  In  the  second 
place,  you  must  give  me  your  word  and  honour,  as  a 
Brazenface  man,  that  you  '11  never  bet  again  in  a  similar 
way." 

Verdant  Green  readily  gave  the  required  promise. 
"  I  'm  not  over  wise  myself  in  some  things,"  continued 
the  little  gentleman ;  "  especially  in  reading  and  all  that, 
and  in  those  sort  of  things  that  the  Examiners  stump 


AND    HIS    FRIEND    VERDANT   GREEN.  33 

you  with  at  the  beastly  Examinations.  My  first  years 
must  have  been  passed  in  healthful  play,  and  not  in 
books  and  works,  as  Dr.  Whats-his-name  says ;  and,  I 
daresay,  that  what  you  call  the  intellectual  faculties 
had  n't  a  fair  chance,  and  were  kept  dormouse,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing.  But,  in  other  things,  I  'm  wide 
awake  and  up  to  snuff,  and  not  quite  such  a  fool  as  I 
look ;  and  I  'm  wise  enough  to  know  that  if  you  take 
to  betting  on  horse-racing  —  of  which  you  know  no 
more  than  a  kitten,  and  especially  with  men  like 
Blucher  Boots  — you  '11  soon  make  ducks  and  drakes 
with  your  money,  and  will  go  to  the  bad  like  a  house 
a-fire.  If  you  want  to  do  it  at  all,  it 's  quite  sufficient 
to  keep  to  a  little  mild  betting  at  Van  John  and  Three- 
card  Loo  ;  not  but  what  you  may  overdo  that.  But, 
as  for  horse-racing,  keep  clear  of  it,  old  fellow;  and,  if 
you  take  his  advice  in  that  particular,  you  '11  bless 
yours  truly,  Henry  Bouncer.  And  now,  I  vote  we  do 
some  bitters.  My  throat 's  rather  dry  with  so  much 
speechifying." 

So  little  Mr.  Bouncer  holloa'd  "  Robert !  "  and  on 
Mr.  Filcher's  appearance  ordered  him  to  bring  them  a 
big  pewter  of  that  Buttery  ale  for  which  the  College  of 
Brazenface  has  a  deserved  reputation.  "  That 's  the 
stuff  to  make  your  hair  curl,"  he  said,  as  he  reluctantly 
took  his  lips  away  from  the  pewter.  "  Who  was  the 
cove  who  sang  something  about  dipping  his  beak  in  the 
Gascon  wine?  Here,  Giglamps  ;  you  dip  your  beak  in 
that,  and  it  will  do  you  more  good  than  any  Gascon 
wine." 

"  I  can't  help  thinking  how  kind  you  have  been  to 
me,"  said  Verdant,  who  was  now  looking  more  cheerful 
than  he  had  done  when  his  friend  had  first  entered  the 

3 


34  LITTLE   MR    BOUNCER 

room  on  that  morning.  It  was  evident  that  the  "  blue 
funk  "  had  nearly  cleared  away,  and  that  the  Freshman, 
having  worked  himself  up  to  a  state  of  feverish  anxi 
ety,  was  now  experiencing  the  delightful  sensation  of 
unexpected  relief. 

"  There  !  never  mind  about  the  kindness,"  replied  Mr. 
Bouncer.  "  We  '11  say  no  more  about  it.  But,  don't 
you  ever  bet  on  horse-racing  again  —  more  particularly 
with  Blucher  Boots." 

"  Indeed,  I  never  will.    This  has  been  a  lesson  to  me." 

And  it  was  something  more  than  that ;  for  this  little 
episode  in  his  life's  history  greatly  helped  to  cement  the 
friendship  that  Mr.  Verdant  Green  already  felt  for  little 
Mr.  Bouncer.  It  showed  him  that,  under  all  his  pecu 
liarities  of  language  and  manner,  Mr.  Bouncer  was  a 
person  who  was  capable  of  giving  him  good  advice  and 
was  ready  to  keep  him  from  falling  into  those  snares  and 
temptations  that  beset  every  young  man  on  his  entrance 
into  life,  and  none  more  so  than  a  home-nurtured,  inex 
perienced  youth  who  is  suddenly  removed  from  a 
well-ordered  household  to  the  mixed  society  of  a  throng 
of  undergraduates,  in  a  beautiful  city  where  he  can  freely 
procure  all  that  he  desires  without  troubling  himself  to 
think  of  present  payment. 

A  fortnight  after,  when  the  memory  of  The  Knight 
and  the  book  on  the  Derby  was  beginning  to  fade  from 
Mr.  Verdant  Green's  mind,  little  Mr.  Bouncer  entering 
his  room  with  a  newspaper  in  his  hand,  said,  "  Giglamps, 
old  fellow !  your  dark  horse  has  been  scratched." 

"How  cruel  of  them!  why  did  they  scratch  it?" 
asked  the  Freshman. 

"  Oh,  you  sweet  innocent !  "  laughed  Mr.  Bouncer. 
"The  Knight's  name  has  been  scratched  out  of  the  list 


AND   HIS  FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  35 

of  horses  for  the  Derby ;  so  your  fifteen  pounds  would  n't 
have  made  your  fortune.  However,  there  was  a  good 
end  to  that  business ;  and  we  '11  let  bygones  alone. 
What  a  splendiferous  weedcase  this  is  !  "  he  said,  as  he 
took  a  cigar  out  of  a  blue  velvet  case  that  had  been 
presented  to  him  by  Verdant  Green,  as  a  souvenir  of  the 
Blucher  Boots  transactions.  "  I  think  I  was  the  only 
gainer  by  your  book  on  the  Derby." 

"  I  gained  experience  and  a  lesson  for  life,"  said 
Verdant. 

"  So  you  did ;  and  that 's  worth  something,"  replied 
Mr.  Bouncer. 

The  days  went  by,  and  the  end  of  the  Term* had 
arrived ;  but  Mr,  Verdant  Green  had  not  received  another 
invitation  to  breakfast  with  Mr.  Blucher  Boots,  nor  had 
Lord  Balmoral's  son  in  any  way  condescended  to  notice 
him ;  in  fact,  when  he  next  met  him  in  the  High  Street 
he  stared  him  full  in  the  face,  and  cut  him  dead ;  the 
which  Verdant  by  no  means  took  sadly  to  heart,  but  ate 
his  dinner  that  day  in  Hall  as  heartily  as  usual.  But  if 
he  did  not  further  cultivate  an  acquaintance  with  the 
Hon.  Blucher  Boots,  he  had  made  other  friendships  that 
would  be  more  agreeable  to  him ;  and  on  the  last  morn 
ing  but  one  of  the  summer  Term  he  found  himself  at  a 
breakfast  party  in  little  Mr.  Bouncer's  rooms,  in  company 
with  his  old  friend  Charles  Larkyns,  Mr.  Flexible  Shanks, 
Mr.  Smalls,  Mr.  Blades,  Mr.  Fosbrooke,  and  others  — 
in  all  a  goodly  company,  blessed  with  good  appetites 
and  animal  spirits.  Perhaps  there  are  no  breakfasts 
more  enjoyable  than  a  College  breakfast  at  the  close  of 
a  Term,  when  the  guests  have  not  to  run  away  to  Lec 
tures,  and  to  prematurely  part  with  their  provisions  in 
order  to  assume  a  forced  acquaintanceship  with  Greek 


36  LITTLE   MR    BOUNCER 

and  Latin  writers,  or,  still  worse,  with  Euclid  and  mixed 
mathematics.  On  the  present  occasion,  at  little  Mr. 
Bouncer's  breakfast,  they  were  able  to  partake  of  the 
good  things  provided  for  the  occasion,  and  to  linger 
over  them  with  pleasurable  zest. 

The  table  presented  the  usual  medley  of  eatables  and 
drinkables,  in  which  coffee  and  beer-cup,  chickens  and 
claret-cup,  moselle  and  pigeon-pie,  mutton  cutlets 
and  sardines,  curagoa  and  potted  char,  beef-steaks  and 
grilled  fish,  cocoa  and  caviar,  devilled  kidneys  and  ome 
lettes,  anchovy  toast  and  sangaree,  found  a  place  among 
various  other  refreshments,  both  heavy  and  light,  that 
were  fast  disappearing  before  the  attacks  of  the  bevy  of 
hungry  undergraduates.  Through  the  open  windows 
was  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  City  of  Colleges,  bathed  in 
the  radiant  streams  of  summer  sunshine,  every  turreted 
tower  and  soaring  spire  standing  out  clear  and  sharp 
against  the  blue  sky.  The  grand  avenue  of  limes  for 
which  Brazenface  is  celebrated,  was  filled  with  a  murmur 
of  bees.  Below  was  the  smoothly-shaven  turf  in  the 
centre  of  the  Quad,  with  the  Hall  on  the  one  side,  the 
Chapel  on  the  other,  and  on  either  hand  the  rows  of 
mullioned,  heavy-headed  windows,  at  some  of  which  the 
unaccustomed  sight  was  seen  of  young  girls  peering  into 
the  court  below  —  an  unusual  but  pretty  look-out  at 
Brazenface.  For  it  had  been  the  Commemoration  week, 
when  the  feminine  element  puts  in  a  strong  appearance 
in  Oxford,  and  for  a  few  days  in  the  year  enlivens  the 
old  grey  colleges  with  pretty  pictures  of  beauty  and 
fashion,  and  brightens  up  the  rooms  of  happy  under 
graduates,  of  learned  tutors,  of  stately  dons,  and  miser 
able  Fellows,  whose  tantalising  lot  it  is  to  look  and 
admire,  but  not  to  marry,  under  pain  of  resigning  their 


AND   HIS   FRIEND    VERDANT  GREEN. 


37 


incomes.  So  at  many  windows  there  were  pleasant 
visions  of  dimpled  cheeks  and  rosy  lips  and  flashing 
eyes,  and  through  many  a  casement  came  the  sound  of 
girlish  laughter;  but  these  sights  and  sounds  were  absent 
from  Mr.  Bouncer's  rooms. 


i»iiJiTifinr>Miua\<nTmnia3inmTnti!7l1^a 


"  I  could  n't  get  the  Mum  and  Fanny  to  come,"  he 
said,  referring  to  his  mother  and  sister;  "though  I  held 
out,  as  an  inducement,  that  I  would  introduce  them  to 
you,  Giglamps,  That  will  be  a  treat  in  store,  won't  it? 
You  must  come  and  see  us  during  the  Long  at  our  little 
shop  in  the  country."  In  another  day  the  Long  Vaca 
tion  would  begin ;  and  just  at  the  time  when  the  chief 


38  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

portion  of  its  population  was  about  to  run  away  from  it, 
Oxford  was  looking  at  its  best. 

The  confused  talk  at  Mr.  Bouncer's  breakfast-table 
was  somewhat  settling  down  into  more  regular  conver 
sation,  as  pipes  and  cigars  were  lighted,  and  a  perfumed 
cloud  began  to  float  through  the  room  and  mingle  its 
scent  with  the  aroma  of  coffee  and  spiced  ale.  Huz 


and  Buz  were  making  themselves  happy  with  platefuls 
of  chicken-bones,  and  their  master  was  lolling  at  his 
ease,  with  his  legs  stretched  over  the  arm  of  his  easy- 
chair.  Verdant  Green  and  the  greater  portion  of  the 
guests  lingered  at  the  table,  while  others  looked  out  of 
the  windows,  enjoying  a  smoke  and  the  prospect  —  the 
latter  including  pleasant  glimpses  of  the  young  ladies 
who  appeared  at  the  opened  windows  of  rooms  whose 
owners  were,  in  that  respect,  more  fortunate  than  was 
little  Mr.  Bouncer. 

But  what  was  said  on  that  occasion  by  himself  and 
his  friends  must  be  told  in  another  chapter. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN. 


39 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LITTLE    MR.  BOUNCER  ENTERTAINS    HIS  FRIENDS,  AND 
IS   ENTERTAINED    BY  THEM. 

IELDING  themselves  willingly  to 
the  pleasures  of  the  hour  and  the 
enjoyments  of  the  breakfast-table, 
little  Mr.  Bouncer's  guests  made 
themselves  happy  in  each  other's 
company,  knowing  that  on  the 
morrow  they  would  all  be  leaving 
Oxford,  and  would  be  travelling 
north,  south,  east,  and  west,  preparatory  to  making  more 
extensive  (as  well  as  expensive)  tours  on  the  Continent 
and  elsewhere,  and  otherwise  beguiling  the  months  of 
the  Long  Vacation,  until  October  should  once  again  see 
them  reassembled  in  their  beautiful  City  of  Colleges. 

In  the  interval,  Brazenface  would  be  given  up  to 
scouts  and  bed-makers;  and  while  Mr.  Robert  Filcher 
would  stand  as  umpire  at  a  scouts'  cricket-match,  Mrs. 
Tester  would  preside  at  a  tea-party  in  the  porter's 
lodge.  Workmen  would  also  be  whistling  and  shouting 
for  "  mortar"  in  the  passages  and  on  the  staircases  where 
the  "mortar-boards"  were  daily  seen  during  Term- 
time  ;  the  necessary  repairs  would  be  effected ;  the  burnt 
plank  where  a  lighted  cigar  had  been  dropped,  and 
whereby  the  College  had  been  nearly  set  on  fire,  would 


40  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

be  replaced;  the  yellow  coruscation  would  be  removed 
from  the  wall  where  an  egg  that  had  been  playfully 
shied  at  a  Freshman's  head  had  missed  its  mark  but 
left  a  stain ;  whitewash  would  also  obliterate  the 
various  works  of  art,  executed  in  burnt  cork,  on  the 


staircase  walls,  by  little  Mr.  Bouncer  and  other  ame- 
teurs,  in  which  grandeur  of  effect  and  satirical  expres 
sion  were  sought  for,  rather  than  delicacy  of  execution 
and  flattery  of  portraiture ;  the  smashed  panel,  through 
which  a  small  but  highly  obnoxious  Freshman  had  been 
propelled,  would  be  made  good ;  twisted  gas-pipes 
would  be  repaired,  and  Brazenface  would  be  put  into 
apple-pie  order. 

Though  it  seemed  to  stand  in  little  need  of  improve- 


AND    HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  41 

ment,  as  it  looked  at  the  present  moment,  with  the 
bright  June  sun  shining  full  upon  it,  and  with  the  un 
wonted  bits  of  gay  colour  gleaming  here  and  there 
from  the  dresses  of  the  ladies,  as  they  appeared  at  some 
of  the  mullioned  windows,  or  strolled  across  those  grass- 
plats  which  might  not  be  trodden  on  by  the  feet  of 
undergraduates.  Cheery  talk  and  laughter  were  also 
borne  to  the  ear  from  Quads  and  rooms ;  and  a  due 
proportion  of  it  came  from  the  room  of  little  Mr. 
Bouncer.  Huz  and  Buz  had  finished  their  breakfast  of 
chicken-bones,  and  had  been  much  annoyed  by  Mr. 
Smalls,  who  had  been  vainly  endeavouring  to  teach 
them  to  sit  up  and  hold  short  pipes  in  their  mouths 
—  a  proceeding  which  they  had  resented  with  much 
dudgeon. 

"  They  think  it  low,"  said  their  master,  "  to  do 
tricks  like  Circus  dogs,  even  though  you  held  out  the 
inducement  of  acting  as  Clown.  You  'd  better  let  them 
alone.  They  Ve  a  long  journey  to  take  to-morrow,  and 
it  won't  do  to  upset  their  feelings  to-day.  Help  your 
self  to  liquors,  Smalls,  and  don't  interfere  with  the 
enjoyments  of  the  animals.  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear 
your  views  on  things  in  general,  particularly  on  the 
political  condition  of  Europe."  And  little  Mr.  Bouncer 
made  himself  comfortable,  with  his  legs  over  the  arm  of 
his  easy  chair. 

"Well;  you  know  old  Peter?  "  replied  Mr.  Smalls,  as 
though  he  were  hastening  to  comply  with  his  host's 
request. 

"What!  Peter  the  Great?  Yes;  I've  known  him 
from  a  baby.  Fire  away,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Bouncer. 

"  Old  Peter,  the  cake-man,  is  the  party  referred  to," 
explained  Mr.  Smalls —  "  the  old  fellow  who  is  allowed 


42  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

to  come  into  the  men's  rooms.  Well,  the  other  day, 
Tom  Higgins  was  in  his  bed-room,  and  heard  old  Peter 
come  into  the  other  room.  Tom  kept  quiet,  and  old 
Peter  evidently  thought  that  there  was  no  one  at  home. 
Presently,  Tom  heard  old  Peter  taking  the  stopper  out 


of  a  decanter  that  was  on  the  table,  and  holding  a 
monologue  dialogue  —  if  I  may  use  the  expression  — 
the  while  he  helped  himself  to  the  port.  But  he  did  so 
in  a  very  original  way.  All  the  while  the  performance 
was  going  on,  old  Peter  was  saying,  '  Take  a  glass  of 
wine,  Peter.'  '  Thankee,  sir;  I  've  no  objection;  here  's 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  43 

your  health,  sir.'  '  Do  you  like  this  wine,  Peter?  ' 
'  Very  much  indeed,  sir,  thank  you.'  '  Then  take  an 
other  glass,  Peter.'  '  Much  obliged,  sir.'  '  Take  another 
glass,  Peter;  it  won't  hurt  you.'  'Well;  I  don't  think 
it  will,  sir;  so  I  drinks  to-wards  you.'  Here  Tom 
thought  it  time  to  interfere;  or,  perhaps,  old  Peter 
would  have  kept  up  the  imaginary  dialogue  until  he 
had  finished  the  decanter ;  so  he  knocked  down  a  chair 
in  his  bed-room,  and,  under  cover  of  the  noise,  old 
Peter  bolted." 

"  The  old  rascal !  "  exclaimed  Charles  Larkyns,  who 
was  puffing  at  a  long  "  Churchwarden  "  which  he  con 
sidered  to  be  the  very  king  of  pipes,  and  that  every  inch 
of  its  "  yard  of  clay  "  —  if  it  were  a  true  Broseley —  was 
priceless.  "  The  old  rascal !  But  they  are  all  alike, 
whether  cake-men  or  scouts.  It  was  only  last  week  that 
I  missed  some  of  my  best  weeds,  and  I  fancied  that 
Robert  had  bagged  them.  I  did  not  quite  like  to  tax 
him  with  making  free  with  them;  but,  at  a  venture,  I 
said,  '  How  do  you  like  my  tobacco,  Robert?'  Instead 
of  being  taken  aback  by  the  question,  he  at  once  replied, 
with  admirable  coolness  and  self-possession,  '  Not  so 
much  as  the  last  lot  you  had,  sir;  they're  a  trifle  too 
strong  for  summer  smoking.'  Now,  I  call  that  slightly 
cool.  Perhaps  the  next  thing  will  be  that  we  are  ex 
pected  to  supply  our  scouts  with  cigars." 

"  And  submit  the  brands  to  them  before  they  conde 
scend  to  make  a  selection,"  suggested  Lord  Buttonhole's 
son,  Mr.  Flexible  Shanks.  "  What  a  cheesy  idea !  " 

"  That  reminds  me,"  said  Verdant  Green,  "  that  I 
intended  to  ask  you  if  it  was  the  custom  to  do  what 
Mrs.  Tester,  my  bed-maker,  has  done.  The  lock  of  my 
tea-chest  has  been  out  of  order  for  some  time ;  in  fact, 


44  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

ever  since  Mrs.  Tester  used  it  in  showing  me  how  to 
make  tea.  I  told  Robert  to  get  it  mended ;  but  I  sup 
pose  that  he  forgot  to  do  so." 

"  His  memory  would  be  safe  to  be  bad  on  that  point," 
observed  little  Mr.  Bouncer.  "  It's  an  amiable  weak 
ness  of  his." 

"  So,"  continued  Verdant,  "  as  I  found  that  I  got 
through  my  tea  very  rapidly,  I  shut  up  the  tea-chest  in 
my  cupboard.  But  Mrs.  Tester  said  that  the  cupboard 
must  be  dusted ;  so  I  let  her  dust  it;  but  when  I  looked 
in  the  chest  all  the  tea  was  gone." 

"  I  suppose  that  she  had  dusted  that  also,"  interpolated 
Charles  Larkyns;  "without  leaving  you  even  the  tea- 
dust." 

"  I  thought  it  better  to  mention  it  to  Mrs.  Tester,  and 
asked  her  if  she  knew  anything  about  it.  She  said,  oh, 
yes !  she  had  taken  it,  because  '  gentlemen  in  general 
liked  their  tea-chestes  to  be  cleared  out,  so  that  they 
might  begin  afresh  next  Term.'  Is  that  the  case?" 
asked  Mr.  Verdant  Green. 

"  Well,  I  expect  it  is  —  with  Freshmen,"  replied 
Charles  Larkyns;  "  but  you  will  be  able  to  begin  afresh 
next  Term,  old  fellow,  without  being  a  Freshman ;  and 
you  can  then  be  quits  with  old  Mother  Tester,  and  wide 
awake  to  her  pickings  and  stealings.  Has  she  got  much 
brandy  out  of  you  lately,  eh,  Verdant?" 

"  Not  much,"  replied  that  goodnatured  gentleman. 
"  Her  spasms  began  to  be  somewhat  of  a  bore ;  for,  she 
was  always  attacked  by  them  whenever  she  found  me 
alone  in  the  room ;  and  as  I  did  not  like  to  refuse  her 
request  to  ease  them  with  three  drops  of  brandy  on  a 
lump  of  sugar  —  which  was  the  remedy  that  she  was 
accustomed  to  take  whenever  she  was  suffering  from 


AND    HIS    FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN. 


45 


an  attack  —  I   have  tried,  lately,  to  avoid  her,  and  to 
go  out  whenever  I  thought  she  was  coming  in." 

Nevertheless,  on  the  following  morning,  when  Mr. 
Verdant  Green  had  "  tipped  "  his  scout  and  bed-maker, 
before  setting  off  home 
wards,  Mrs.  Tester  was 
opportunely  seized 
with  spasms,  as  she  was 
bidding  him  farewell. 
And  as  she  pressed 
and  thumped  her  sides 
in  a  terrific  manner, 
and  made  every  out- 
w  a  r  d  demonstration 
that  she  was  suffering 
from  internal  agony, 
Verdant  benevolently  inquired  what  was  the  matter. 

"  It 's  the  spazzums,  my  good  young  sir !  "  groaned 
Mrs.  Tester,  dropping  courtesys  at  every  sentence,  like 
the  beats  of  a  conductor's  baton.  "  To  which  you 
be'old  me  a  hafflicted  martyr.  And  can  only  be  heased 
with  three  spots  of  brandy  on  a  lump  of  sugar.  And 
how  I  am  to  get  through  these  spazzums  doorin'  the 
veccation.  Without  a  havin'  em  heased  by  going  to 
your  cupboard.  For  just  three  spots  o'  brandy  on  a 
lump  o'  sugar.  Is  a  summat  as  I  am  afeerd  to  think  on, 
my  good  young  sir." 

Whereupon  Mrs.  Tester  was  so  completely  overcome 
by  the  mingled  pain  of  spasms  and  the  prospect  of 
losing  Mr.  Verdant  Green's  source  of  relief,  that  the 
Freshman  was  weak  enough  to  present  her  with  an  extra 
half-sovereign  for  the  express  purpose  of  supplying  her, 
during  his  absence,  with  the  means  of  obtaining  her 
accustomed  medicine. 


46  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

"  Which  a  half  sufferin',  my  good  young  sir !  "  said 
Mrs.  Tester,  as  she  pocketed  the  gold  coin,  "  is  more 
than  I  expected  on.  And  will  hease  my  spazzums  like 
the  Poor  Man's  Friend.  Which  my  own  son  once'st 
gave  me  a  bottle  on.  As  had  beautiful  red  whiskers 
with  a  tendency  to  drink.  And  was  known  to  his  friends 
by  a  strawbery  mark  in  the  small  of  his  back.  And  was 
fine  growed  and  the  very  moral  of  you,  my  good  young 
sir,  —  which  drink  were  his  rewing  and  enlisted  him  for 
a  soger,  —  when  the  yaller  fever  cut  him  off  like  a  flower 
in  the  West  Ingies,  —  which  the  remembrance  brings  on 
the  spazzums,  —  to  which  I  'm  a  hafflicted  martyr,  — 
and  my  grateful  thanks  to  you,  my  good  young  sir, — 
and  wishin'  you  a  safe  journey  'ome  and  'ealth  and 
'appiness." 

But  we  are  somewhat  anticipating  events.  It  was  not 
yet  the  next  morning,  nor  was  little  Mr.  Bouncer's 
breakfast  at  an  end. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN. 


47 


CHAPTER  VII. 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER  HEARS   SOME  THINGS   FOR  HIS 
ADVANTAGE,   AND    OTHERS   FOR   HIS    AMUSEMENT. 

ITTING  and  lounging  after  breakfast 
in  little  Mr.  Bouncer's  room,  his 
friends  were  making  themselves 
very  happy,  having  the  last  day  of 
Term  before  them,  and  no  lectures 
to  attend.  As  much  enjoyment, 
therefore,  and  good  fellowship  as  it 
was  possible  to  cram  into  the  next 
twenty-four  hours,  were  now  to  be  packed  by  them  into 
that  compass  of  time,  so  that  they  might  carry  away 
from  Oxford  a  rich  freightage  of  happy  memories  on 
which  to  dwell  with  satisfaction  during  the  ensuing 
months  of  the  Long  Vacation. 

"  Did  you  hear  of  Warner  of  Exeter's  Wine,  last 
Monday  night?  "  said  Mr.  Blades.  "  I  was  there;  and 
he  had  asked  two  townsmen  —  tradesmen ;  perhaps  he 
had  ticks  at  their  shops  and  wanted  to  be  civil ;  any  way 
they  were  very  decent  people  and  capital  company. 
They  seemed  very  much  at  home  and  not  at  all  disposed 
to  go ;  and,  when  they  talked  about  doing  so,  Warner, 
like  bold  Turpin  in  Sam  Weller's  song  '  perwailed '  on 
them  to  stop."  . 


48  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

Mr.  Bouncer  could  not  resist  the  opportunity  of  re 
peating  the  chorus  from  Sam  Weller's  song.  "  '  Chorus, 
sarcastically.  But  Dick  put  a  couple  of  balls  in  his 
nob,  and  perwailed  on  him  to  stop.'  Fire  away,  Billy." 
"  One  of  the  townsmen,"  continued  Mr.  Blades,  "  was 
a  very  cheery  bird,  with  a  first-rate  baritone  voice  ;  and 
he  sang  no  end  of  good  songs,  and  was  highly  convivial. 
At  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  two  townsmen 
thought  that  it  was  time  to  go.  Then  came  the  diffi 
culty  ;  it  was  too  late  for  the  College  gates ;  how  were 
they  to  be  got  out?  Warner's  window  opened  on  to  the 
street,  from  the  first  floor;  so  we  got  a  ladder  and 

placed  it  carefully,  and 
the  two  townsmen  made 
the  descent.  It  was 
a  brilliant  moonlight 
night,  and  no  sooner 
were  they  safely  landed 
on  the  pavement  than 
a  policeman  laid  hold 
upon  them.  The  one 
slipped  a  half-crown 
into  the  Peeler's  hand, 
and  the  Peeler  pocketed 
it;  the  other  one  imi 
tated  the  pantaloon  in  a  pantomime,  and  cried,  '  I  saw 
you  do  it !  if  you  split  upon  us,  I  shall  split  upon  you 
for  taking  the  money.'  And  while  the  Peeler  was  hesi 
tating  what  to  do,  they  made  a  clear  bolt,  and  we  hauled 
up  the  ladder.  Then  we  chaffed  the  Peeler,  but  made 
it  all  right  with  him,  and  lowered  to  him,  with  a  string, 
a  goblet  of  gin-flip,  and  threw  him  some  weeds.  The 
two  townsmen  have  since  been  in  a  mortal  fright  at  be- 


AND   HIS   FRIEND    VERDANT  GREEN.  49 

ing  discovered ;  but  they  are  quite  safe  so  long  as  the 
Peeler  holds  his  tongue.  If  he  should  peach,  the  towns 
men  will  be  discommoned,  and  Warner  will  probably  be 
rusticated  ;  but  as  nothing  has  yet  been  heard  of  it,  and 
as  to-day  is  the  last  day  of  Term,  I  should  hope  they 
are  all  safe." 

"  I  heard  a  good  thing  of  old  Towzer,"  said  Mr.  Flex 
ible  Shanks,  referring  to  the  Senior  Proctor,  the  Rev. 
Thomas  Tozer,  who  was  familiarly  known  by  the  name 
that  Mr.  Flexible  Shanks  gave  to  him.  "  He  was  in  the 
Corn  Market  yesterday  morning  about  twelve  o'clock, 
when  he  met  a  University  man  with  his  gown  over  his 
arm.  Old  Towzer  called  to  him,  and  pretending  to  take 
him  for  a  scout,  said,  '  Here  !  you  there !  When  next 
you  carry  your  master's  gown  to  the  tailor's,  I  should 
advise  you  not  to  put  on  his  cap.'  With  that,  old  Tow 
zer  walked  off.  That  was  not  bad,  I  think." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Charles  Larkyns ;  "  but  did  you 
hear  of  the  Dean  of  St.  Vitus's?  Downton,  of  that  Col 
lege,  has  a  twin  brother,  who  came  up  to  see  him  for 
the  Commemoration  week.  The  Dean  met  this  twin 
walking  by  himself  in  the  High  Street,  and,  of  course, 
without  academicals.  As  you  know,  the  Dean  is  very 
peppery  unless  he  is  duly  capped ;  and  the  twin  passed 
him  without  raising  his  hat.  '  Stop,  sir !  '  said  the 
Dean ;  '  I  am  astonished  that  you  should  thus  pass  me 
without  taking  any  notice  of  me.'  '  I  am  not  aware,' 
replied  the  twin,  '  that  I  have  the  pleasure  of  knowing 
you.'  '  Not  know  me  !  '  cried  the  Dean ;  '  not  know 
me!  Why,  is  not  your  name  Downton?'  'Yes;  that 
is  my  name,'  answered  the  twin.  '  Then,  sir,'  fumed  the 
Dean,  '  what  do  you  mean  by  passing  me  without  cap 
ping  me?  And,  how  is  it,  sir,  that  you  are  walking 

4 


50  LITTLE   MR    BOUNCER 

about  here  without  your  academicals?  Go  to  your  Col 
lege,  at  once,  sir;  and  to-morrow' Here  the  twin 

cut  him  short :  '  I  have  no  College.'  '  No  College, 
sir ! '  cried  the  Dean ;  '  do  you  mean  to  deny  that  you 
are  Downton  of  St.  Vitus's?'  'Indeed,  I  do,'  said  the 
twin.  The  Dean  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  could  bear 
matters  no  longer.  '  You  shall  be  punished  for  your 
impertinence,  sir;  you  shall  hear  more  of  this !'  and 
then  he  walked  off  in  high  dudgeon.  The  end  of  it  was, 
that  the  other  brother  was  summoned  to  appear  before 
the  Dean,  where  the  matter  might  have  been  carried1  on 
much  further ;  but  he  thought  it  best  to  save  himself 
trouble  by  taking  his  twin  brother  with  him,  and  explain 
ing  circumstances.  The  Dean,  who  is  a  very  jolly 
fellow,  laughed  heartily  at  his  mistake,  and  made  them 
stay  and  have  a  glass  of  wine  with  him." 

"  Talking  of  wine,"  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  "  which  of 
you  men  are  going  to  Effingham's  Little-go  Wine  to 
night?  Don't  all  speak  at  once." 

Two  or  three  responded  in  the  affirmative ;  and  Mr. 
Bouncer's  question  caused  the  conversation  to  turn  upon 
the  recent  "  Little-go  "  and  "  Great-go."  The  examina 
tions  of  that  day  were  not  complicated  by  the  introduc 
tion  of  "  Mods."  Enough,  for  most  men,  were  the 
"Smalls"  and  "Greats;"  some  men,  indeed,  found 
them  to  be  more  than  enough ;  and  it  was  of  one  of 
these  unfortunates  that  mention  was  now  made. 

"  Poor  Ellison  has  been  plucked  again,"  said  Mr. 
Flexible  Shanks.  "  Although  the  examiner  blandly 
asked  him  if  he  desired  to  maintain  his  opinion,  yet 
Ellison  persisted  that  etsi  was  the  perfect  of  a  verb,  of 
which  etiam  was  the  subjunctive  mood ;  and  he  further 
hurt  the  examiner's  feelings  by  rashly  asserting  that  clam 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  51 

was  an  adjective,  accusative,  feminine ;  and  declined  it 
for  him  —  clus,  cla,  clam  ;  after  which  the  examiner  de 
clined  to  receive  Ellison's  further  shots." 

"  I  hear,  too,"  said  Charles  Larkyns,  as  he  puffed  at 
his  long  "  Churchwarden  "  clay,  "  that  Broughton,  the 


gentleman-commoner  of  Worcester  College,  has  been 
ploughed  for  his  Greats.  You  know  his  way  of  answer 
ing,  in  his  hesitating  way?  '  It  is  —  aw  —  generally  — 
aw  —  thought  —  aw,  that'  so-and-so;  just  as  though  he 
had  carefully  digested  all  the  known  authorities  on  the 
subject,  and  gave  the  result  of  their  opinions  to  the 


52  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

examiner.  He  had,  as  usual,  fallen  back  on  the  stock 
answer,  and  had  asserted  that  some  city,  of  whose  geo 
graphical  position  he  was  densely  ignorant,  was  —  aw  — 
generally  thought  —  aw  —  to  be  an  —  aw  —  island  in 
the  jEgean  Sea ;  and  he  had  also  assured  the  examiner 
that  it  was  —  aw  —  generally  thought  —  aw  —  that 
Troy  was  —  aw  —  the  capital  of  Italy ;  when  the  exam 
iner,  beginning  to  lose  his  temper,  said  —  and,  like  the 
Verkus  Boy  of  the  song,  he  '  said  it,  and  he  said  it  with 
a  sneer,'  '  Perhaps,  sir,  you  will  be  good  enough  to 
favour  me  with  your  opinion  as  to  what  country  London 
is  the  capital  of? '  Upon  which  Broughton,  as  cool  as 
a  cucumber,  hummed  and  hawed,  and  said,  '  It  is  —  aw 
—  generally  thought  —  aw  —  that  it  is  —  aw  —  the  capi 
tal  of  England.'  '  Generally  thought,  sir  !  '  roared  the 
examiner;  'why!  was  it  ever  doubted?'  And  then  he 
plucked  him.  Alas,  for  Broughton !  he  was  not  like 
Adolphus  Smalls,  of  Balliol,  of  whom  —  parodying  the 
lines  from  '  Lars  Porsenna'  of  ClusSum, 

It  was  more  than  three  stout  oxen 

Could  plough  from  morn  to  night  — 
it  was  said, 

He  was  more  than  three  examiners 
Could  plough  from  morn  to  night. 

No  !  poor  Broughton,  if  he  had  been  in  tune  for  it,  could 
have  sung  with  the  Oxford  Plough'd  Boy  — 

I  am  plough'd  !  I  am  plough'd  !  and  the  second  time,  too  ! 

I  've  got  no  Testamur;  what  am  I  to  do? 

Off,  off,  with  my  bands,  and  off,  off,  with  my  tie ! 

I  am  plough'd,  I  am  plough'd,  and  I  cannot  tell  why. 

I  read  very  hard  the  whole  of  last  Term : 

I  worked  with  a  Coach  —  in  vacation  was  firm ; 

I  went  up  to  Town  for  a  week,  I  confess, 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  53 

To  see  a  sick  uncle  —  I  could  n't  do  less. 

Short,  short,  were  my  slumbers,  as  paper-work  near'd ; 

My  Logic  was  shady,  my  Latin  I  fear'd ; 

Up,  up  in  the  morning —  up,  up  late  at  night ; 

And  yet  I  am  plough 'd  and  my  tutor  is  right. 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer,  with  his  love  for  a  chorus,  repeated 
the  last  line  with  great  vigour,  and  would  feign  have 
volunteered  an  accompaniment  on  his  post-horn ;  but 
(happily)  that  instrument  was  not  just  within  his  reach, 
and  he  was  too  comfortably  ensconced  in  his  easy-chair 
to  rise  up  to  get  it;  so  he  demanded  an  encore,  and 
repeated  the  chorus  to  his  great  satisfaction. 

Other  specimens  from  the  recent  examinations  were 
then  quoted ;  but  as  they  were  for  the  most  part  replies 
to  questions  in  the  Divinity  viva  voce,  the  talk  of  them 
had  better  be  left  to  the  obscurity  of  the  cigar-smoke  in 
little  Mr.  Bouncer's  room.  It  was  very  evident,  however, 
that  more  than  one  Mr.  Anser  had  failed  to  answer  his 
examiners'  questions,  except  in  an  outrageously  absurd 
way;  and  that. poor  Mr.  Goosey,  in  spite  of  his  assumed 
look  of  wisdom,  was  in  danger  of  being  plucked.  But, 
such  is  the  goose's  doom. 


54 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


LITTLE   MR.    BOUNCER   BEGS   CHARLES   LARKYNS  TO 
UNFOLD  HIS   TALE. 

ITTLE  Mr.  Bouncer's  guests  were 
continuing  their  talk  concern 
ing  the  recent  examinations,  and 
the  various  unfortunates  who  had 
"  come  to  grief"  by  the  "  plough- 
ings  "  and  "  pluckings,"  that,  in 
University  parlance,  signified  re 
jection  and  failure.  The  plucking 

process  seemed  to  be  well-nigh  as  painful  as  the  pluck 
ing  of  live  geese  for  a  few  of  their  wing  feathers  and  the 
soft  down  of  their  breasts  —  a  scene  afterwards  witnessed 
by  little  Mr.  Bouncer  and  Mr.  Verdant  Green  when  they 
were  in  the  Cheviot  country  on  a  visit  to  the  Honey- 
woods  ;  and  when  they  saw  it,  their  lively  imaginations 
converted  the  old  woman  into  a  real  college  Don,  and 
the  poor  plucked  geese  into  helpless  undergraduates. 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  Mr.  Blades,  commonly  known  as 
"Billy,"  the  captain  of  the  Brazenface  Boat,  "Brough- 
ton  would  not  come  to  grief  through  too  much  clever 
ness,  as  they  say  Harwood,  of  Lincoln,  did ;  for,  when 
the  examiners  asked  him  some  question  on  a  fright 
fully  abstruse  subject,  and  said,  '  What  is  your  opinion 


AND    HIS    FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN. 


55 


on  that  point? '  he  replied,  '  I  should  like  to  ask 
what  is  your  opinion,  gentlemen?'  And  it  was  gen 
erally  thought — as  Broughton  would  have  phrased  it 
— .that  the  examiners  could  not  have  explained  it  to 
him  half  so  clearly  as  he  could  to  them.  However, 
how  it  was  I  don't  know ;  but  it  is  certain  that  Harwood 
was  recommended  to  wait  for  the  next  examination ; 
and  most  people  fancied  that  he  was  sent  down  for  his 
bumptiousness." 


"  Some  men,"  said  Charles  Larkyns,  "  get  through  by 
a  fluke,  and  some  men  get  plucked  by  a  fluke." 

"  Charley,  don't  be  personal !  "  groaned  little  Mr. 
Bouncer.  "  You  hurts  my  feelings.  I  went  to  your 
rooms  twice  yesterday,  and  could  n't  find  you.  Where 
were  you,  and  what  were  you  doing  with  yourself? 
Tell  us  all  about  it." 

"  That  's  a  skilful  way  of  diverting  remarks  from 
yourself,  Bouncer,  and  carrying  the  war  into  the  ene 
my's  country,"  said  Mr.  Flexible  Shanks.  "  But  by  all 


56  LITTLE   MR.  BOUNCER 

means  let  us  hear  how  Larkyns  was  improving  the 
shining  hours." 

Charles  Larkyns  took  a  pull  at  his  pipe  and  another 
at  his  pewter,  and  said,  "  So  you  want  to  know  what  I 
was  doing  with  myself  yesterday?  Then,  lend  me  your 
ears,  and  list,  list,  oh,  list !  " 

"That's  quite  the  recruiting  sergeant,"  observed  Mr. 
Bouncer.  "Now  Charley,  unfold  your  tale,  there's  a 
good  old  doggie."  And  he  patted  Buz's  head,  who 
took  the  observation  as  intended  for  himself. 

"  You  must  know,  then,  my  beloved  friends,  and  all 
whom  it  may  concern,"  said  Charles  Larkyns,  "  that  I 
went  down  to  Nuneham,  with  some  men,  in  a  house 
boat.  I  daresay,  altogether,  there  were  about  fifty  of  us, 
and  Smirke,  of  Balliol,  was  there.  He  is  a  man  who  gets 
excited  on  a  bottle  of  pop  ;  and,  as  he  had  injudiciously 
mixed  his  liquors,  although  he  had  not  taken  much,  yet 
the  little  he  had  imbibed  had  got  into  his  head,  and 
made  him  unusually  hilarious.  Just  after  we  had  started 
on  our  way  home,  I  was  sitting  by  him,  and  when  some 
one  offered  him  some  claret-cup  I  advised  him  not  to 
touch  it,  but  to  have  a  drink  of  water  if  he  felt  thirsty. 
'Would  the  water  be  best  forme,  do  you  think?'  said 
Smirke !  '  because,  if  so,  I  had  better  have  a  good 
draught.'  And,  with  that,  before  I  could  stop  him,  he 
jumped  on  to  the  side  of  the  boat,  and  took  a  header 
into  the  river.  We  knew  that  he  was  a  first-rate  swim 
mer  ;  so  we  were  not  alarmed  at  his  thus  taking  a  bath 
with  his  clothes  on ;  and  he  very  soon  appeared  on 
the  surface,  puffing  and  blowing  like  a  grampus.  We 
quickly  pulled  him  on  board,  and  he  was  taken  into  the 
cabin,  where  he  shook  himself  out  of  his  wet  clothes, 
and  was  rigged  out  in  a  new  suit  by  subscription.  One 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  57 

man,  who  had  a  jersey  on,  lent  him  his  shirt;  another 
man  gave  him  a  pair  of  boating-trousers  that  he  had  on 
board;  another,  a  boating-coat;  another,  a  straw  hat; 
and  so  on.  In  order  to  prevent  his  catching  cold, 
indiscreet  friends  exhibited  to  him,  as  Doctors  say.  a 
mixture  of  hot  brandy-and-water,  in  which,  I  expect, 
the  spirit  was  in  excess  of  the  water.  After  this,  Smirke 
again  grew  hilarious ;  and  one  man  after  another  kept 
coming  down  into  the  cabin,  and  saying,  '  Well  done, 
old  fellow !  you  did  that  splendidly !  you  took  to  the 
water  like  a  Newfoundland  dog !  '  and  such  like  terms 
of  commendation. 

"  '  You  thought  I  did  it  well,  did  you?  '  said  Smirke. 
'  Then  I  '11  do  it  again !  '  and  before  any  one  could  stop 
him  he  jumped  through  the  cabin  window.  As  he  did 
so,  the  men  who  had  rigged  him  out  by  subscription 
thought  it  was  high  time  to  look  after  their  property 
and  keep  it  dry.  So  the  man  who  had  lent  him  the 
shirt  rushed  forward  and  managed  to  catch  Smirke  by 
one  leg,  just  as  that  leg  was  disappearing  on  the  river 
side  of  the  cabin  window.  But,  Smirke  being  no 
chicken,  and,  of  course,  being  a  dead-weight  while  he 
was  thus  suspended  in  the  air,  it  was  too  much  for  his 
supporter,  who,  though  he  refused  to  let  go  his  hold,  was 
gradually  disappearing  out  of  the  cabin  window.  At 
this  critical  juncture,  the  donor  of  the  shirt  was  tightly 
grasped  by  the  donor  of  the  trousers ;  and  thus,  for  a 
few  seconds,  the  human  chain  was  suspended,  the  donor 
of  the  trousers  exhorting  the  donor  of  the  shirt  not  to 
let  go,  and  the  donor  of  the  shirt  making  a  vigorous 
but  vain  effort  to  keep  both  himself  and  Smirke  out  of 
the  river. 

"Then  there    came  the    sound    of  a  rent;   Smirke's 


58  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

trousers  had  given  way,  and  yielded  to  the  strain  so 
unexpectedly  put  upon  them;  and  their  temporary 
wearer  went  headlong  into  the  river,  quickly  followed 
by  the  owners  of  trousers  and  shirt;  for  the  sudden 
jerk  was  too  much  for  their  equilibrium,  and  they  top- 


pled  in  after  Smirke  and  after  each  other.  All  three 
could  swim  like  fishes,  and  the  only  danger  was  that  they 
might  be  lost  through  the  convulsions  of  laughter  into 
which  those  on  board  fell,  and  in  which  those  who  had 
fallen  into  the  water  heartily  joined.  Smirke  paddled 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN. 


59 


lazily  to  and  fro,  appearing  to  enjoy  his  ducking ;  and 
when  the  other  two  swam  to  him  and  endeavoured  to 
convey  him  on  board  he  declared  that  he  was  the  Diver 
of  the  Adriatic,  and  that  he  was  going  in  search  of  the 
ring  with  which  the  Doge  of  Venice  had  married  the 
sea ;  and  that  the  two  others  were  base  conspirators  who 
wanted  to  get  it  from  him :  and  a  whole  lot  of  bosh. 
Whereupon,  they  began  a  sort  of  duck-hunt  in  the 
water,  which  was  no  small  fun,  and  which,  from  the 
jollity  of  its  nature,  seemed  so  infectious,  that  I  confess 


that  I  and  a  few  others  were  very  nearly  tempted  to 
join  them  in  their  worship  of  Isis." 

"Oh!  I  say,  Charley!"  shouted  Mr.  Billy  Blades, 
"  don't  do  that  again,  or  I  shall  vote  that  you  are 
sconced.  Your  puns  are  ponderous." 

"A  pun'  weight,  I  suppose?"  laughed  Charles 
Larkyns ;  for  which  further  offence  there  was  a  yell 
of  indignation.  "  But,  to  return  to  my  muttons,  who, 
in  this  instance,  were  like  sheep  being  washed  —  except 
that  it  was  warmer  weather  than  that  in  which  sheep  are 
usually  washed,  and,  consequently,  the  ducking  was 


60  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

proportionately  more  enjoyable.  At  last  we  prevailed 
on  them  to  cease  their  funning,  and  come  on  board; 
where  Smirke  trundled  himself  after  the  fashion  of  a 
Newfoundland  dog  when  he  comes  out  of  the  sea ;  and, 
of  course,  sent  a  showery  spray  over  every  one  with 
whom  he  came  in  contact,  while,  like  Mazeppa's  horse, 
he  urged  on  his  wild  career,  until  we  locked  him  up  in 
the  cabin,  safe  out  of  harm's  way.  We  were  not  long 
in  getting  back  to  Folly  Bridge,  where  our  three 
drowned  men  got  themselves  dry  things  at  Hall's ; 
and  then,  being  dry  without,  must  needs  be  wet  within ; 
and,  so,  adjourned  to  a  tidy  little  shop  close  by,  where 
we  gave  them  some  callidum-cum  and  got  some  frigi- 
dum-sine  for  ourselves ;  and  so  —  as  old  Pepys  would 
have  said — back  to  College,  and  safe  in  before  Gates. 
And  there  you  have  the  full,  true,  and  particular  account 
of  my  doings  yesterday."  And  Charles  Larkyns  filled 
the  bowl  of  his  long  "  Churchwarden  "  from  a  tobacco- 
box  shaped  like  a  nigger's  head,  and  begged  Mr.  Boun 
cer  also  to  fill  his  tankard. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN. 


6l 


CHAPTER    IX. 


LITTLE    MR.   BOUNCER  TAKES   PART  IN   A  LITTLE-GO 

WINE. 

CHARLES  LARKYNS 
brought  to  an  end  the  tale  he 
had  unfolded  concerning  Mr. 
Smirke,  of  Balliol,  little  Mr. 
Bouncer  complied  with  his 
guest's  request  to  fill  his  tan 
kard,  and  said,  "  I  shall  meet 
Smirke  to-night  at  Effi ngham's 
Little-go  Wine.  I  hope  he  '11 
be  fun." 

"  What  did  you  mean,"  whis 
pered  Verdant  Green  to  his  old 
friend,  "  by  saying  that  you 
gave  the  wet  men  callidttm- 
cnm,  and  had  frigidtim-sine  yourselves?" 

"  It's  the  short  for  hot-with  and  cold-without,  my 
lad,"  replied  Charles  Larkyns.  "  Now  that  you  Ve  come 
to  Oxford,  you  '11  live  and  learn  in  a  variety  of  ways." 

"I  have  found  that  out  already,  haven't  I?"  said 
Verdant  to  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  who  knew  that  he  referred 
to  his  Derby  book  and  to  Mr.  Blucher  Boots's  dark 
horse. 


62  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

"  I  believe  you,  my  bo-oy,"  responded  Mr.  Bouncer, 
after  the  manner  of  Mr.  Paul  Bedford.  "  And,  by  the 
way,  your  friend  The  Knight  has  claimed  maiden  allow 
ance,  and  is  going  to  run  The  Great  Mogul  for  a 
monkey." 

"  Oh,  indeed!  "  said  Verdant;  which  was  a  tolerably 
safe  exclamation,  as  he  had  not  the  slightest  idea  what 
Mr.  Bouncer  meant;  and  the  phrases  "  maiden  allow 
ance  "  and  "  running  for  a  monkey  "  were  quite  as  dark 
to  him  as  was  the  horse  in  connection  with  which  they 
were  used. 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer  guessed  as  much,  and  said, 
"  Videsne  puer?  d'  ye  twig,  young  un?  Perhaps  you  'd 
like  to  put  a  pot  of  money  on  him,  eh?  "  But  this  was 
said  sotto  voce,  and  was  not  heard  by  the  rest  of  the 
party;  and,  in  the  same  tone,  Verdant  replied,  "No, 
indeed;  I've  done  with  horse-racing.  Many  thanks  to 
you  for  having  taught  me  a  good  lesson." 

"  I  say,  you  fellows,"  burst  in  Mr.  Four-in-hand  Fos- 
brooke,  who  was  looking  forward  to  the  morrow,  when 
he  would  be  seated  on  the  box  of  the  Oxford  and  Birm 
ingham  coach,  and  would  be  permitted  by  the  coachman 
to  handle  the  ribbons,  and  temporarily  to  take  the  reins 
of  government;  "  oh,  I  say,  you  fellows  !  have  you  heard 
a  good  thing  that  Hargrave,  of  Wadham,  has  done  ?  " 

"  Paid  his  ticks?"  suggested  Mr.  Flexible  Shanks. 

"  No;  I  am  afraid  that  that  is  not  his  particular  form 
of  good  thing,  and  that  his  duns  will  still  have  to  wait 
for  the  settlement  of  their  little  bills,"  replied  Mr.  Fos- 
brooke.  "  And  it  is  odd  how  many  of  these  little  bills 
turn  up  just  at  the  very  end  of  Term  ;  in  order,  I  sup 
pose,  to  prepare  one's  mind  all  the  more  to  enjoy  the 
pleasures  of  the  Long  Vacation." 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  63 

"  The  little  bill  is  made  long  for  the  Long,"  said 
Charles  Larkyns.  "But,  what  did  Hargrave  do?  " 

"  Perhaps  he  screwed  Big  Ben  in  his  Warden's  room?" 
suggested  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  somewhat  irreverently 
referring  to  the  head  of  the  college  of  which  Mr.  Har- 
erave  was  a  member. 


"  No ;  he  did  nothing  so  dreadful,"  replied  Mr.  Fos- 
brooke.  ''  I  was  reminded  of  what  he  did  by  Smalls's 
tale  of  old  Peter,  the  cakeman.  The  baker's  boy  had 
paid  a  visit  to  Hargrave's  rooms,  when  no  one  was  there, 
and  had  bagged  some  wine  from  a  bottle  that  was  on 
the  mantle-shelf,  where,  also,  was  another  bottle  contain 
ing  medicine.  The  wine  was  Rosolio,  and  the  physic 
was  similar  in  colour.  Hargrave  found  out  what  the 
boy  had  done,  and  laid  a  trap  for  him,  in  case  he  should 


64  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

repeat  the  experiment.  He  cleared  out  the  medicine 
bottle,  and  clapped  the  Rosolio  into  it;  and  then  put  the 
physic  into  the  wine  bottle,  and  mixed  it  up  with  a  stiff 
dose  of  jalap.  The  baker's  boy  duly  came,  when  no 
one  was  about,  and  had  his  usual  sip  at  the  bottle  ;  for, 
when  Hargrave  came  back,  he  found  that  about  half  a 
pint  of  the  true  '  mixture-as-before '  had  disappeared," 
and  that  the  Rosolio  was  untouched.  The  boy  did  n't 
appear  again  for  two  weeks.  Q.E.D.  Moral :  he  never, 
after  that,  touched  Hargrave's  wine,  or  his  physic." 

"  I  thought  you  were  going  to  say  he  never  smiled 
again,"  said  Mr.  Fosbrooke.  "  Well;  my  moral  is  that 
of  Ingoldsby :  Pitch  Greek  to  a  certain  person,  and  stick 
to  conundrums.  We  have  done  with  the  old  Greeks  for 
a  time,  and  unless  we  are  going  in  for  a  class  we  sha'  n't 
want  to  meet  with  them  all  the  Long.  I  must  be  off !  I 
daresay  I  shall  see  some  of  you  on  the  top  of  the  Birm 
ingham  coach  to-morrow.  You  '11  be  there,  won't  you, 
Bouncer?  " 

"  No ;  not  this  time ;  I  have  promised  to  spend  a  day 
or  two  with  old  Smalls,"  replied  little  Mr.  Bouncer. 
"  And  then  I  shall  wander  home  by  way  of  the  little 
village." 

"  I  suppose  you  '11  be  for  the  coach,  Larkyns  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Fosbrooke. 

"  No ;  I  too  am  wandering  home  by  way  of  the  little 
village,  as  Bouncer  says,"  replied  Charles  Larkyns. 

"  London  seems  the  shortest  way  to  everywhere,"  said 
Mr.  Fosbrooke  ;  "  but  you  '11  go  back  home  by  the  coach, 
won't  you,  Green?  " 

And,  on  Verdant  replying  that  he  intended  to  do  so, 
Mr.  Fosbrooke  said  that  he  had  better  have  breakfast 
with  him  before  starting ;  an  invitation  which  Verdant 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN. 


accepted.  Little  Mr.  Bouncer  also  invited  himself, 
observing  that  it  was  his  duty  to  see  his  friend,  Gig- 
lamps,  safely  off  the  premises,  for  fear  he  should  surrep 
titiously  elope  with  old  Mrs.  Tester.  Then  Mr.  Bouncer's 

5 


66 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


breakfast  party  broke  up,  and  the  men  went  their  various 
ways,  in  order  to  leave  Oxford  the  next  day. 

In  the  evening,  little  Mr.  Bouncer  went  to  Effingham's 
Little-go  Wine,  given  by  that  gentleman  in  celebration 
of  his  having  "  got  through  his  smalls,"  or  passed  his 
first  year's  examination  in  literis  humanioribus,  also 


called  "  Responsions."  "  It  was  a  very  close  shave, 
though,"  said  Effingham,  in  acknowledging  Mr. 
Bouncer's  congratulations.  "  I  put  on  a  tremendous 
spurt  during  the  last  month,  or  else  I  don't  think  I 
should  have  managed  it,  although  I  had  the  best  '  coach  ' 
in  the  'Varsity.  If  you  will  believe  me,  I  never  saw  the 
inside  of  a  billiard-room,  or  touched  a  cue,  all  through 
that  month.  I  can  make  up  for  it  now,  and  I  bless  my 
stars  that  it  is  all  over,  and  that  I  am  well  through." 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  67 

That  Little-go  Wine  was  a  far  from  quiet  party;  and 
the  noise  and  confusion  were  not  lessened  by  the  songs 
that  were  sung,  which,  for  the  most  part,  were  given  in 
full  chorus  —  a  circumstance,  however,  which  was  not 
at  all  disagreeable  to  Mr.  Bouncer's  feelings  ;  but  when 
songs  are  shouted  or  yelled  at  the  top  of  the  voice,  and 
without  much  attention  to  time  or  harmony,  the  result  is 
anything  but  musical  or  soothing.  Mr.  Smirke  was 
there,  none  the  worse  for  his  ducking  of  the  previous 
day,  but  already  anything  but  the  better  for  an  injudi 
cious  combination  of  coffee  and  punch.  He  had 
originally  declared  his  intention  of  sticking  to  the 
former;  but  had  gradually  relaxed  his  resolve,  and  had 
glided  into  the  punch-bowl.  A  couple  of  glasses  were 
quite  sufficient  for  Mr.  Smirke,  who  was  not,  like  the 
typical  Englishman  described  by  lago  "  potent  in  pot 
ting,"  but  rather  resembled  Cassio  in  having  such  "  poor 
and  unhappy  brains  for  drinking  "  that  he  "  could  well 
wish  courtesy  would  invent  some  other  custom  of  enter 
tainment."  Like  Cassio,  too,  Mr.  Smirke,  considering 
that  this  last  night  of  Term  was  a  "  night  of  revels,"  had 
drunk  "  one  cup  that  was  craftily  qualified,"  and  yet 
had  made  "  innovation,"  and  was  so  "  unfortunate  in  the 
infirmity,"  that  he  ought  not  to  have  dared  to  task  his 
weakness  with  any  more.  Nevertheless,  like  Cassio,  he 
drank  more,  and  with  the  same  result  that  befell  Othello's 
lieutenant.  After  a  third  and  fourth  glass  of  punch,  Mr. 
Smirke  became  obtrusively  disagreeable  and  noisy. 

To  mild  chaff  ensued  epea  pteroenta  and  hot  language. 
Supper  was  on  the  table,  and  a  Mr.  Bulpit,  a  "  Skim- 
mery  "  man,  whom  Smirke  was  addressing  in  language 
not  borrowed  from  Chesterfield  or  Grandison,  lost  his 
temper,  and  flung  a  slice  of  tongue  across  the  table  into 


68  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

Smirke's  face.  That  gentleman,  with  the  suddenness 
of  movement  that  he  had  shown  on  the  previous  day, 
in  leaping  through  the  window  of  the  house-boat, 
instantly  returned  the  compliment  with  the  whole  of  a 
cold  duck,  including  the  dish.  Mr.  Bulpit  contrived  to 
avoid  the  latter,  which  was  dashed  to  pieces  against  the 
wall  behind  him ;  but  he  was  not  sufficiently  quick  to 
get  out  of  the  way  of  the  cold  duck,  which  struck  him 
full  on  the  nose. 

Then    ensued  a  scene  of  increased    excitement   and 
disturbance. 


AND   HIS  FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN. 


CHAPTER  X. 


LITTLE  MR.    BOUNCER  IS   ASKED   TO   ACT  AS   SECOND 
IN  A  DUEL. 

IS  not  pleasant  when  you  are  at  a 
supper  party,  and  anxious  to  en 
joy  yourself,  to  be  struck  forcibly 
on  the  nose  by  the  whole  of  a 
cold  duck  that  has  been  hurled 
into  your  face  by  an  individual 
sitting  immediately  opposite  to 
you  at  the  table.  When,  too,  the 
dish  is  also  sent  with  the  duck, 
and  only  by  your  own  quickness 
of  movement  escapes  your  head, 
to  be  smashed  to  pieces  against 
the  wall  behind  your  chair,  the  clatter  made  by  its  bro 
ken  fragments  is  not  agreeable  to  sensitive  feelings. 
Mr.  Bulpit,  of  "Skimmery,"  felt  this  ;  and  felt,  moreover, 
the  hurt  of  the  blow  and  the  indignity  to  which  he  had 
been  publicly  exposed.  Being  helped  to  duck  in  so 
rough  and  ready  a  way  was  decidedly  an  unpleasant 
episode  in  Mr.  Effingham's  Little-go  Wine  party. 

To  resent  the  insult  was  Mr.  Bulpit's  immediate  re 
solve  ;  and,  to  do  so  in  the  quickest  way,  he  jumped 
upon  his  chair,  and  from  thence  on  to  the  table,  and 
was  about  to  dash  across  it,  regardless  of  plates  and 


70  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

glasses,  with  the  view  of  punching  Mr.  Smirke's  head, 
and  otherwise  inflicting  summary  vengeance  upon  him, 
when  Effingham  caught  him  by  the  tails  of  his  coat,  and 
arrested  him  in  his  wild  career.  "Stop  this,  old  fellow  !  " 
he  said,  as  he  endeavoured  to  drag  him  down  from  the 
table ;  "  we  can't  have  any  righting  here.  Bouncer, 
catch  hold  of  Smirke !  " 


Little  Mr.  Bouncer  promptly  obeyed  the  summons, 
and  at  once  seized  Mr.  Smirke  by  the  arm,  and  tried  to 
force  him  into  his  chair;  for,  when  Mr.  Bulpit  had 
leapt  upon  the  table,  Mr.  Smirke  had  also  jumped  up 
to  defend  himself  from  the  threatened  attack,  and  Mr. 
Bouncer,  who  had  been  sitting  next  to  him,  was  on 
the  alert  to  prevent  the  two  quarrellers  from  coming  to 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  /I 

blows.  "  Let  me  go !  let  me  get  at  him ! "  cried  Mr. 
Bulpit;  and  "  Let  me  go  !"  also  cried  Smirke. 

"  Not  by  any  manner  of  means,"  said  little  Mr.  Boun 
cer,  as  he  tightened  his  grasp  on  the  one  side,  and  was 
assisted  to  hold  the  struggling  Smirke  by  another  of 
Effingham's  guests.  "  You  Ve  shown  one  way  of  duck 
ing  a  man's  head,  and  you  seem  to  be  rather  too  fond  of 
cold  ducking.  No,  my  beauty;  you  won't  get  away. 
It 's  only  bears  and  lions  that  growl  and  fight,  and  your 
little  hands  were  never  made  to  tear  out  Bulpit's  eyes  ; 
so  you  had  better  put  your  angry  passions  in  your 
pocket.  For  the  present,  you  must  consider  yourself 
my  prisoner.  I  'm  Detective  Bouncer,  of  the  A  I  Bra- 
zenface  Division." 

All  the  room  was  in  a  hubbub.  It  had  not  been  by 
any  means  a  quiet  Wine  from  the  first  —  Little-go 
Wines  are  usually  noisy  affairs  ;  but  now  the  confusion 
and  racket  were  greatly  increased.  Mr.  Bulpit  was  still 
forcibly  striving  to  cross  the  Rubicon  of  the  supper- 
table,  and  was  wildly  gesticulating,  and  uttering  wilder 
threats  as  to  what  he  would  do  to  Mr.  Smirke's  head 
and  various  other  portions  of  his  body  when  he  could 
get  at  him.  At  last,  Effingham  succeeded  in  pulling 
him  from  the  table,  and  forcing  him  into  his  chair. 
Both  the  would-be  combatants  were  in  a  pot-valiant 
state,  and  hot  words  were  freely  interchanged.  More 
punch  was  also  consumed  by  the  two  quarrellers ;  under 
the  influence  of  which  Mr.  Smirke's  speech  became 
somewhat  indistinct  and  incoherent. 

"  Shtrikes  me,"  he  said,  as  though  the  facts  were  just 
beginning  to  dawn  upon  him,  "  Bulpit  'tended  to  'suit 
me.  What  you  say,  Bousher?  " 

"  Strike  you  !  "  retorted  Mr.  Bulpit  across  the  table, 


72  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

as  he  caught  the  word  that  he  now  repeated ;   "  why, 
you  struck  me  with  the  duck !  " 

"  You  shied  shlice  o'  tongue  in  my  faish !  hurt  my 
feelings !  "  said  Mr.  Smirke,  as  he  slapped  the  left  side 
of  his  waistcoat.  "My  heart's  in  ri'  plaish;  feel  for 
another,  and  all  that  sort-o-thing.  Not  to  be  shulted 


with  'punity,  I  can  tell  you  !  then  why  shend  shlice  o' 
tongue  in  my  faish?  Thash  what  I  wan'  to  know." 

"  There,  old  fellow !  it  was  merely  a  slip  of  the 
tongue,"  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  endeavouring  to  pacify 
him.  "  Say  no  more  about  it." 

But  Mr.  Smirke  preferred  to  say  more  about  it,  and 
so  also  did  Mr.  Bulpit ;  and  they  noisily  stated  their 
individual  grievances  to  those  nearest  to  them,  as  well 


AND    HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  73 

as  to  those  remote.  The  clang  and  clatter  were  greater 
than  in  any  rookery.  A  song,  with  the  old  chorus, 
"  For  he  's  a  jolly  good  fellow,"  was  vainly  tried  by 
little  Mr.  Bouncer;  but,  in  every  sense  of  the  word, 
failed  to  produce  harmony.  Animal  spirits  were  all 
very  well  up  to  a  certain  point ;  but,  beyond  it,  degen 
erated  to  rude  uproar.  Throughout  song  and  chorus, 
Mr.  Bulpit  and  Mr.  Smirke  obtruded  the  wrongs  they 
had  individually  sustained,  and  utterly  refused  to  act  as 
"jolly  good  fellows,"  and  shake  hands  and  end  their 
quarrel. 

"Now,  do  be  quiet!"  cried  Effingham,  addressing 
himself  to  Mr.  Bulpit.  "  One  would  really  imagine,  to 
hear  you  two  talk,  that,  after  the  manner  of  a  melo 
dramatic  villain  of  a  transpontine  theatre,  one  of  you 
will  next  say,  '  This  'ere  hinsult  must  be  wiped  out  with 
bel-lood ! ' " 

"  Of  course  it  must !  "  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  wink 
ing  in  a  knowing  manner  at  Effingham,  and  looking  in  a 
significant  way  to  others  at  the  table,  in  order  that  they 
might  catch  his  meaning,  and  take  the  hint  to  carry  out  the 
joke;  "  of  course  it  must!  After  what  has  occurred  — 
after  the  gross  personal  altercation  into  which  two  invited 
guests  of  our  esteemed  host  have  permitted  themselves 
to  engage  —  I  think,  gentlemen  all,  that  nothing  less 
will  satisfy  the  demands  of  the  occasion  than  a  duel." 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer's  hint  was  quickly  taken,  and  a 
chorus  of  responsive  voices  was  heard.  "  Of  course ! 
an  affair  of  honour's  the  proper  sort  of  thing!  "  "  Pis 
tols  for  two,  and  coffee  to  follow ! "  "A  duel !  a 
duel !  "  Mr.  Bulpit's  countenance  fell. 

"  You  'd  wish  for  satisfaction,  would  n't  you,  Smirke?  " 
asked  little  Mr.  Bouncer. 


74  LITTLE   MR.    BOUNCER 

"Shute  me  famoushly !  "  replied  Mr.  Smirke;  mean 
ing  to  say,  that  it  would  suit  him. 

But  Mr.  Bulpit  heard  the  word,  and  understood  it 
as  it  was  pronounced.  "Who'll  shoot  you?"  he  said. 
"  Not  I,  if  I  know  it.  You  're  not  worth  powder  and 
shot." 

"  Come,  Bulpit,"  said  Effingham ;  "  you  must  n't  back 
out  of  it." 

"  I  shed  shute  me !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Smirke,  vainly 
striving  at  great  deliberation  of  expression.  "  You 
shay  that  I  shay  shoot  me.  Never  shed  such  a  wor' ! 
pononner  !  quia  mishtake.  I  shed,  shute  me." 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer  and  Mr.  Effingham  had  taken  the 
opportunity  to  interchange  a  few  quiet  words  in  the 
midst  of  the  din  and  confusion.  "  It  is  quite  evident, 
gentlemen,"  said  the  latter,  "  that  there  must  be  a  duel. 
Nothing  less  will  evidently  satisfy  Bulpit  for  his 
wounded  honour,  to  say  nothing  of  his  wounded  nose. 
Look  at  his  poor  dear  nose,  gentlemen,  whereon  still 
linger  the  greasy  traces  of  cold  duck ;  and  then  say 
what  other  reparation  than  an  affair  of  honour  can  suf 
fice  to  wipe  out  that  gravied  stain?  Of  course,  Bulpit, 
you  '11  fight !  There 's  no  other  course  left  open  to 
you." 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course,"  reluctantly  responded  Mr.  Bul 
pit,  who  failed  to  perceive  that  the  whole  affair  was  a 
jest,  and  that  he  and  Mr.  Smirke  were  to  be  made  the 
victims  of  a  hoax,  and  thus  punished  for  their  ungentle- 
manly  conduct  at  the  Little-go  Wine ;  "of  course  I'll 
fight,  if  it 's  thought  necessary." 

"Nesheshary?  courshe  it  is!"  said  Mr.  Smirke. 
"  You  shulted  me,  and  hurt  my  feelings !  courshe  it 's 
nesheshary." 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  75 

"  Then,  gentlemen,"  said  Effingham,  "  the  two  prin 
cipals  being  agreed  that  a  meeting  with  pistols  is  un 
avoidable,  all  that  we  have  to  do  is  to  arrange  the  place 
and  time,  and  make  all  other  needful  preparations  — 
such  as  the  attendance  of  a  surgeon,"  he  considerately 
added;  an  observation  which  did  not  tend  to  soothe 
Mr.  Bulpit's  feelings. 

"Who'll  be  my  shecond?"  said  Mr.  Smirke. 
"  Bousher,  old  bird,  you  '11  shtick  to  me  like  a  jolgood 
fellow,  won't  you  ?  Never  deshert  a  fren'  while  you  Ve 
got  a  fren'  and  a  bottle  to  give  him,  as  the  shong  says. 
I  should  like  you  to  be  my  shecond." 

"  All  right,  my  tulip ;  I  '11  be  your  second,"  replied 
little  Mr.  Bouncer. 


76 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


CHAPTER  XI. 

LITTLE    MR.   BOUNCER'S   FRIEND    PRELUDES   THE  DUEL 
WITH   SOME  TEA-TRAY  AND   POKER   MUSIC. 


ES,"  said  little  Mr.  Boun 
cer  to  Mr.  Smirke,  "  I  '11 
be  your  second;  and  I 
daresay,  Effingham,  that 
you  will  act  as  second  to 
Bulpit?" 

"  Very  happy,  I  'm  sure ; 
if  you  wish  me,  Bulpit?" 
said  the  host  of  the 
evening. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  should  — 
like  it  of  all  things  !  "  re 
joined  that  individual; 
feeling,  however,  very 

much  more  disposed  to  ask  Mr.  Smirke  to  shake  hands 
and  be  friends,  and  to  forgive  him  for  beginning  the 
fracas  by  throwing  the  slice  of  tongue  in  his  face.  But 
Mr.  Bulpit  thought  within  himself,  "  If  I  do  so,  they  '11 
all  think  I  'm  showing  the  white  feather."  So,  out  of 
the  fear  of  being  thought  to  possess  and  exhibit  that 
most  unpopular  plume,  Mr.  Bulpit  smothered  his  real 
feelings,  being  the  more  disposed  to  do  so,  as  Mr. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  77 

Smirke  appeared  to  be  in  a  highly  valorous  state,  and, 
like  Bob  Acres  —  before  his  duel — was  ready  to  cry, 
"  Odds  flints,  pans,  and  triggers !  odds  bullets  and 
blades !  odds  balls  and  bullets !  "  so  that  Mr.  Bouncer 
might  have  given  him  the  advice  of  Sir  Lucius  in  the 
comedy,  and  have  urged  him  to  decide  the  matter  that 
evening;  and  then,  "  let  the  worst  come  of  it,  it  will  be 
off  your  mind  to-morrow."  In  fact,  Mr.  Smirke  became 
so  very  noisy  and  disagreeable,  that  his  further  presence 
at  Effingham's  Little-go  Wine  was  unanimously  voted  to 
be  undesirable;  and  he  was  summarily  conveyed  back 
to  Balliol  by  two  sympathising  friends  of  his  own  col 
lege,  who  saw  him  safely  to  bed  "  in  his  room  in  the 
uppermost  storey,"  where,  like  the  hero  of  Dr.  Maginn's 
parody,  they  "  left  him  alone  in  his  glory,"  prepared  to 
give  him  the  next  morning, 

A  couple  of  red 
Herrings  and  soda-water. 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer  had  seen  them  safely  out  of  the 
Brazenface  gates,  and  had  said  to  Mr.  Smirke,  "  I  shall 
be  with  you  at  six  o'clock,  sharp ;  and  mind  that  I  find 
you  all  ready  for  the  duel.  Effingham  and  I  will 
arrange  the  place,  and  the  time  must  not  be  later  than 
seven." 

"  All  ri' !  all  ri' !  "  was  Mr.  Smirke's  response,  as  he 
once  more  essayed  to  explain  to  his  friends  what  he 
considered  to  be  the  true  state  of  the  case.  "He  shed 
that  I  shed  shute  me.  Quia  mishtake  !  I  shed  "  — 

"  There,  old  fellow,  cut  it  short ! "  said  Mr.  Bouncer. 
"  Never  mind  what  he  said,  or  what  you  said.  Go  to 
bed,  and  get  to  sleep,  and  don't  get  up  with  a  shaky 
hand." 


78  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

"  Shaky,"  cried  Mr.  Smirke ;  "  what  d'  ye  mean  by 
shultin'  me  ?  You  're  no  great  shakes." 

"  There !  go  off,  and  get  to  bed  !  "  said  Mr.  Bouncer. 
"  I  don't  want  to  insult  you.  I  'm  your  second." 

This  sent  off  Mr.  Smirke's  thoughts  in  a  fresh  direc 
tion  or  train.  "  Shecond  class  !  I  always  travel  firsht. 
Tickets  ready,  gents  !  '  Timesh ' !  '  Shtandard' !  '  Lustra- 
ted  Noos ' !  '  Punsh  ' !  —  Yesh  ;  just  one  more  glash  cold 
punsh.  Thankee  !  Bousher  old  bird  !  fren'  of  my  shoul, 
this  goblet  sip  !  Give  me  a  lock  of  your  hair,  old  fel'  ! 
I  shall  prishe  it  immenshely  !  "  On  which  Mr.  Bouncer 
got  rid  of  him,  and  the  little  wicket  in  the  Brazenface 
gates  was  then  closed  upon  him  and  his  friends. 

On  returning  to  Emngham's  rooms,  Mr.  Bouncer 
found  that  Mr.  Bulpit  had  drunk  to  drown  dull  care,  or 
to  give  himself  fictitious  courage  for  the  morning's 
encounter  —  like  the  man  in  the  song,  who  tried  "to 
keep  his  spirits  up  by  pouring  spirits  down ;  "  and  he 
also  was  taken  away,  and  seen  safely  to  his  rooms  in 
"  Skimmery."  Then  a  consultation  was  held  as  to  the 
programme  of  the  duel.  Effingham  proposed  the  Port 
Meadow  as  the  place,  and  seven  o'clock  as  the  time. 
The  two  men  were  to  be  taken  there  by  their  respective 
seconds,  with  two  others  to  watch  the  proceedings  and 
to  give  the  word  to  fire.  The  pistols  were  to  be  loaded 
with  paper  pellets.  The  seconds  were  to  express  to 
their  principals  their  sorrow  that  no  doctor  was  in 
attendance,  and  their  assurance  that  no  time  should  be 
lost  in  conveying  the  wounded  to  the  nearest  surgeon. 
The  two  combatants  being  thus  primed  for  the  duel,  and 
placed  in  position,  the  word  to  fire  would  be  given. 
The  probability  was  that  each  of  them  would  fire  in  the 
air;  but  even  if  they  did  not,  no  harm  would  ensue. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  79 

Then  the  seconds  were  to  interfere,  and  declare  that 
outraged  honour  was  satisfied;  and  Messrs.  Smirke  and 
Bulpit  were  to  be  led  away  from  the  Port  Meadow,  to 
be  thoroughly  laughed  at  for  having  been  victimised, 
and  with  a  caution  to  behave  themselves  better  for  the 
future,  especially  in  the  matter  of  shying  their  supper 
in  each  other's  faces. 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer  was  in  favour  of  Shotover  Hill  for 
the  place  of  meeting,  not  only  from  its  appropriate 
name,  but  also  from  its  being  a  more  retired  spot ;  but, 
as  they  came  to  discuss  the  matter,  they  found  that  there 
were  numerous  obstacles  in  the  way  of  successfully  car 
rying  out  their  plan,  either  at  the  Port  Meadow  or 
Shotover  Hill,  not  only  from  the  Police,  and  the  Proctor 
and  his  "  bull-dogs,"  but  also  from  the  circumstance 
that  the  morrow  would  be  the  last  morning  of  the  Term, 
and,  consequently,  that  not  many  hours  would  be  at 
their  disposal.  Very  reluctantly,  therefore,  the  pro 
gramme  of  the  duel  was  abandoned,  and  a  milder  form 
of  bringing  the  two  quarrellers  to  their  senses  was  deter 
mined  upon.  This  decision  was  ultimately  arrived  at 
very  much  to  the  sorrow  of  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  who  had 
anticipated  much  amusement  from  the  mock  duel,  and, 
as  he  snatched  a  brief  sleep  on  Effingham's  sofa,  he 
dreamed  that  he  and  Mr.  Smirke  were  posted  on  the  top 
of  Shotover  Hill,  firing  with  a  heavy  piece  of  ordnance, 
at  Mr.  Bulpit  and  Efnngham,  who  were  posted  far  away 
on  the  towing-path  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  just 
where  the  Isis  makes  the  bend  towards  Ifley.  In  his 
dream,  Mr.  Bouncer  saw  the  well-known  spot  where  he 
had  so  often  boated  —  the  fringe  of  willows  on  the  bank 
—  the  flat  stretch  of  meadows,  and  the  rising  ground 
beyond,  with  its  trees,  hedgerows,  and  scattered  houses. 


8o 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


It  was  all  there,  vividly  and  distinctly,  and  so  were  the 
combatants  and  their  cannon;  and  little  Mr.  Bouncer 
awoke,  to  regret  that  the  mock  duel  only  took  place  in 
a  dream.  By  that  time,  the  hour  had  arrived  when  it 


was  necessary  for  the  two  seconds  to  go  in  quest  of  the 
would-be  principals. 

Mr.  Smirke  had  not  passed  the  night  in  sleep.  When 
his  friends  had  left  him,  as  they  thought,  safely  in  bed, 
he  remained  there  but  a  very  short  time;  for,  within  the 
next  hour,  he  suddenly  made  a  reappearance  outside 
his  rooms,  attired  in  the  airy  costume  of  a  night-gown, 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN. 


81 


but  armed  with  a  tea-tray  and  poker.  With  these  he 
proceeded  to  a  neighbour's  bedside,  and  roused  him  up 
to  inquire  if  he  was  "  all  ri'  ;  "  but,  being  persuaded  to 


go  away,  he  wandered  to  another  staircase,  where  he 
encountered  another  Balliol  man,  the  Hon.  Felix  Fes 
toon,  son  of  Lord  Garland,  ascending  the  stairs.  Mr. 
Festoon  had  been  at  a  wine  party,  and  was  humming  a 
merry  tune,  when,  with  no  small  dismay,  he  suddenly 
came  upon  the  strange  apparition  which  arrested  his 

6 


82  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

progress.  The  light  of  the  moon,  streaming  through 
the  staircase-window,  fell  upon  the  white-dressed  figure 
with  ghostly  effect;  and  Mr.  Festoon  might  well  be 
excused  if,  for  a  moment,  he  felt  somewhat  alarmed. 
That  the  ghost  was  brandishing  a  poker  was  also  a  cir 
cumstance  that  was  not  reassuring  to  Mr.  Festoon's 
peace  of  mind. 

"  Shtop,  sir !  "  cried  Mr.  Smirke.  "  You  're  making  a 
mosht  dishgusting  noishe.  You  're  toshicated,  sir  — 
beashly  toshicated  !  't  will  be  my  painful  duty  —  mosht 
painful  duty  —  to  tell  the  Principal."  Mr.  Smirke  had 
a  considerable  difficulty  in  pronouncing  the  last  word ; 
and  it  gave  Mr.  Festoon  time  to  recover  himself. 

"  You  had  better  go  to  bed,  Smirke,"  he  said,  "  and 
let  me  pass  to  my  bed.  I'm  tired,  and  I've  a  long 
journey  in  the  morning." 

"  All  ri',  F'stoon  !  all  ri' !  Give  my  love  to  Garland 
—  noble  shwell,  and  ornament  of  Upper  Houshe."  And 
Mr.  Smirke  made  a  profound  bow,  and  allowed  Mr. 
Festoon  to  pass ;  but,  instead  of  taking  his  advice,  and 
going  to  bed,  he  wandered  downstairs  into  the  Quad, 
from  whence  tea-tray  and  poker  music  was  presently 
heard,  as  though  Balliol  was  hiving  its  bees. 

Mr.  Bulpit  also  distinguished  himself  on  the  same 
night.  The  friends  who  had  taken  him  to  his  rooms  at 
the  "  Skimmery,"  had  not  undressed  him  and  put  him 
to  bed ;  and,  after  they  had  left  him  he  wandered  forth 
and  amused  himself  in  the  donkey-like  fashion  of  "  kick 
ing  up  his  heels."  Being  shod  with  heavy  boots,  he 
tried  their  strength  against  the  panels  of  various  doors, 
and  succeeded  in  smashing  four,  oaks.  When  after 
wards  asked  why  he  had  done  so,  he  gave,  by  way  of  a 
reason,  the  answer  that  he  had  smashed  two  because 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  83 

he  hated  the  owners  of  the  rooms;  and  that  he  had 
smashed  two  others  because  he  did  not  hate  them,  in 
order  to  make  matters  equal,  and  not  create  jealousy. 
This  was  an  explanation  which,  probably,  would  not 
have  been  received  with  satisfaction  by  the  authorities 
of  St.  Mary's  Hall,  who,  in  the  interval  of  the  Long 
Vacation,  would  have  to  see  to  the  repair  of  the 
smashed  oaks. 


84 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


CHAPTER    XII. 

LITTLE   MR.    BOUNCER   EATS   TWO   BREAKFASTS   ON  THE 
LAST   MORNING   OF  TERM. 

ISTURBING  the  solemn  quietude 
that  ought  to  dwell  by  night  in  the 
venerable  quadrangle  of  a  college, 
the  tea-tray  and  poker  music  made 
by  Mr.  Smirke  in  the  Balliol  Quad 
was  found  to  murder  sleep  in  the 
most  ruthless  manner.  At  last, 
his  discordant  bee-hiving  melody 
became  so  perfectly  unendurable, 
that  a  summary  stop  was  put  to  it  by  outraged  hearers, 
who  swooped  down  upon  his  night-gowned  figure  and 
forcibly  bore  him  off  to  his  own  rooms,  where  they  took 
measures  to  prevent  a  recurrence  of  the  nuisance,  by 
confiscating  both  the  tea-tray  and  the  poker. 

Whether  Mr.  Smirke  was  put  to  bed  by  friend  or  foe, 
it  is  certain  that  when  little  Mr.  Bouncer  made  his  way 
to  his  bedside,  at  six  o'clock  on  that  sunny  June  morn 
ing,  he  found  the  bed  to  be  duly  tenanted  by  its  owner, 
who  was  not  only  fast  asleep,  but  was  also  snoring  in  a 
way  that  was  almost  as  unmusical  as  the  noise  he  had 
made  down  in  the  Quad,  with  his  tea-tray  and  poker. 
Whoever  had  put  Mr.  Smirke  to  bed,  had  improved  the 
occasion  by  artistically  decorating  his  face  with  a  large 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  85 

pair  of  curled  moustaches  and  threatening  eye-brows, 
executed  with  burnt  cork.     So  far,  therefore,  as  his  face 


went,  he  looked  sufficiently  valiant  and  warlike  to  be 
prepared  to  fight  any  number  of  duels. 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer  drew  up  the  blind  and  let  the  full 
sunshine  stream  into  the  room  and  on  the  corked  face 


86  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

of  the  slumberer,  who  was  sleeping  so  heavily  that  there 
was  some  difficulty  in  rousing  him.  "  Smirke  !  awake, 
my  beauty !  my  lady  fair,  arise,  and,  like  the  winking 
may-buds,  'gin  to  ope  your  eyes !  You  ought  to  be  up 
and  dressed." 

"  Oh,  don't  bother !  "  protested  Mr.  Smirke,  not  yet 
fully  roused ;  "  I  want  to  go  to  sleep." 

"  Oh,  indeed,  you  '11  do  no  such  thing,"  said  Mr. 
Bouncer,  as  he  gave  him  another  vigorous  shake  and 
pulled  the  clothes  off  him.  "  It 's  all  very  well  for  Dr. 
Watts'  sluggard  to  do  the  downy  like  the  door  on  its 
hinges,  so  he  on  his  bed ;  but  I  can't  allow  it." 

"  I  wish  you  'd  go  away  and  not  bother  me,"  said  Mr. 
Smirke,  endeavouring  to  compose  himself  to  sleep  again. 

"There,  don't  be  offended!  the  only  way  to  take  a 
fence  is  to  do  it  in  that  style,"  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer, 
pointing  to  one  of  Alken's  coloured  hunting  pictures 
that  was  nailed  up  on  the  wall  over  Mr.  Smirke's  head. 
"Come,  rouse  up,  my  beauty!  not  that  you  are  a 
beauty  without  paint,  as  you'll  see  for  yourself,  when 
you  come  to  look  at  yourself  in  the  glass.  If  you  don't 
get  up  at  once,  I  shall  give  you  cold  pig.  We  Ve  no 
time  to  lose;  for,  unless  you  are  very  quick,  we  shall 
not  be  there  in  time." 

"  Be  where?"  asked  Mr.  Smirke,  rubbing  his  eyes. 

"Where?  why  at  the  Port  Meadow,  to  be  sure,"  re 
plied  Mr.  Bouncer,  who  was  greatly  tickled  at  the  odd 
appearance  of  Mr.  Smirke's  elaborately-corked  face. 

"  Port  Meadow?     What  for?  "  asked  that  gentleman. 

"  Why,  don't  you  remember  ?  You  were  to  be  there 
at  seven  o'clock  this  morning  —  a  duel,  you  know,  with 
Bulpit,  of  Skimmery,  whom  you  grossly  insulted  at 
Effingham's  Little-go  Wine,  by  shying  a  duck  in  his  face." 


AND   HIS  FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  87 

At  this  brief  mention  of  the  scene  of  the  previous 
evening,  the  wretched  man's  clouded  brain  was  suffi 
ciently  cleared  of  some  of  its  fogs  and  mists  to  recover 
a  partial  knowledge  of  what  had  occurred.  "  But  Bulpit 
began  it,  with  a  slice  of  tongue.  And  —  I  have  n't  any 
pistols,"  pleaded  Mr.  Bob  Acres. 

"Oh!  we'll  manage  all  that.  Look  at  yourself  in 
the  glass ;  you  've  got  your  war-paint  on  already."  And 
little  Mr.  Bouncer  enjoyed  Mr.  Smirke's  dismay  when 
he  surveyed  the  burnt-cork  designs  with  which  his  face 
had  been  adorned.  Then  he  made  him  wash  his  face 
and  put  on  his  clothes;  and,  during  the  time  that  he 
was  thus  getting  himself  dressed,  frightened  him  by 
anticipations  of  the  probable  effects  of  the  duel.  At 
length  the  victim  asked,  "  Is  there  no  way  of  getting 
out  of  it?  —  of  course,  in  an  honourable  manner."  And 
Mr.  Bouncer  took  pity  on  him  by  suggesting,  "  I  fear 
that  matters  have  gone  too  far.  The  only  plan  that  I 
can  think  of,  would  be  to  write  an  apology  to  Bulpit; 
and,  perhaps,  you  would  n't  like  to  do  that." 

"Oh,  yes;  I  don't  mind  it  at  all,"  responded  Mr. 
Smirke  with  alacrity.  "  If  I  shied  the  duck  at  him,  as 
you  say  I  did  —  and  I  confess  that  I  don't  remember 
very  clearly  about  it  —  it  would  only  be  right  in  me,  as 
a  gentleman,  to  apologise  to  Bulpit :  would  n't  it?  " 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you.  It  is  better  to  prevent 
bloodshed,  if  possible,"  replied  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  as  he 
lighted  a  cigar,  and  threw  his  cap  and  gown  on  the 
floor.  "  But  you  must  write  the  letter  at  once,  if  it  is  to 
be  written  at  all;  or  Bulpit  and  Effingham  will  have 
started  for  the  Port  Meadow  before  we  can  stop  them. 
You  must  pitch  the  letter  very  strong,  and  do  the  gen 
tlemanly  penitential  in  first-rate  style ;  or  it  will  be  of 
no  use  to  soothe  Bulpit's  savage  breast." 


88 


LITTLE   MR    BOUNCER 


So,  while  the  little  gentleman  smoked  and  smilingly 
looked  on,  Mr.  Smirke  sat  down  and  wrote  a  letter  of 

abject  apology  to  his  foe  of 
the  previous  night.  It  was 
not  a  very  easy  letter  to 
compose  ;  but,  by  the  aid  of 
sundry  hints  from  Mr. 
Bouncer's  fertile  imagina 
tion,  it  at  last  got  itself  writ 
ten  ;  and  Mr.  Bouncer  hurried 
away  with  it  to  Effingham's 
rooms. 

There,  very  shortly  after, 
Effingham  himself  arrived, 
with  a  like  letter  of  apology 
from  Mr.  Bulpit,  with  whom 
he  had  enacted  a  scene  at 
St.  Mary's  Hall  very  similar 
to  that  which  was  being  simultaneously  performed,  at 
Balliol  College,  with  Messrs.  Bouncer  and  Smirke  for 
the  dramatis  persona.  It  was  agreed  that  the  ends  of 
justice  could  not  be  properly  satisfied  unless  the  two 
would-be  combatants  gave  a  breakfast  at  the  Mitre  to 
all  who  had  witnessed  their  quarrel  on  the  preceding 
evening ;  or,  at  any  rate,  to  as  many  of  them  as  would 
be  able  to  accept  the  hasty  invitation,  and  who  would 
not  be  leaving  Oxford  till  a  later  hour.  This  arrange 
ment  was  heartily  acceded  to  by  Mr.  Bulpit  and  Mr. 
Smirke,  who  greatly  preferred  the  "  breakfast  to  follow  " 
instead  of  "  the  pistols  for  two." 

As  they  were  up  and  dressed,  they  at  once  sent  out 
their  invitations,  and  then  went  to  the  Mitre,  where  they 
shook  hands,  mutually  apologised,  and  ordered  the  best 


AND    HIS    FRIEND    VERDANT   GREEN.  89 

breakfast  that  could  be  set  upon  the  table.  Thus,  the 
proposed  duel  ended  in  a  satisfactory  and  sensible  way ; 
and  the  two  letters  from  the  non-duellists  formed  a  very 
fruitful  theme  for  jokes  at  their  expense,  not  only  at 
that  immediate  time,  but  for  many  terms  after. 

Yet,  when  it  was  explained  to  them  that  they  would 
have  been  made  the  victims  of  a  hoax,  and  that,  if  they 
had  met,  their  pistols  would  only  have  been  loaded  with 
paper  pellets,  Mr.  Bulpit  and  Mr.  Smirke  were  half 
inclined  to  regret  that  the  programme  of  the  duel  had 
not  been  fully  carried  out,  and  that  the  Port  Meadow 
had  not  been  made  the  scene  of  their  display  of  fictitious 
bravery.  But,  "  all 's  well  that  ends  well,"  and  they 
joined  in  the  laugh  raised  against  them,  and  cheerfully 
shared  the  bill  for  the  breakfast  at  the  Mitre. 

Of  course,  little  Mr.  Bouncer  was  there,  though  not 
for  long;  "  for,"  said  he,  "  I  promised  to  look  in  at  Fos- 
brooke's,  and  see  him  and  Verdant  Green  off  by  the 
Brummagem  coach  ;  and,  instead  of  feeling  up  to  two 
breakfasts,  I  can't  do  justice  to  one.  I  must  restrict 
myself  to  devil  and  Soda  and  B." 

Either  the  soda  and  brandy,  or  the  devilled  turkey, 
prepared  by  the  Mitre's  chef  in  his  best  style,  or  the 
fresh  morning  air,  gave  little  Mr.  Bouncer  an  appetite ; 
for,  when  he  had  left  Messrs.  Bulpit  and  Smirke,  and 
had  gone  back  to  Brazenface,  and  had  sat  down  at  Fos- 
brooke's  breakfast-table,  he  was  able  to  take  his  due 
share  of  the  good  things  placed  before  him.  But,  if  he 
needed  an  excuse,  he  could  plead  that  it  was  the  last 
morning  of  Term,  and  that  more  than  three  months 
would  pass  before  he  would  eat  another  breakfast  in 
Oxford. 


LITTLE  MR.   BOUNCER 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


LITTLE   MR.    BOUNCER    BIDS    FAREWELL  TO   MR.   VER 
DANT   GREEN    FOR   A   BRIEF    SEASON. 

HE  good  things  on  Mr.  Fosbrooke's 
breakfast  table  were  done  justice  to 
by  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  notwithstand 
ing  the  fact  that  he  had  already 
breakfasted  at  the  Mitre,  with  Mr. 
Bulpit  and  Mr.  Smirke.  In  the 
London  season,  "  men  may  come 
and  men  may  go,"  on  the  same 
evening,  to  two  or  three  Balls, 
Receptions,  At  Homes,  or  whatever 
the  entertainment  may  be  called ; 
and  our  hero  may  be  excused  if,  on 
the  last  morning  of  Term,  and 
under  peculiar  circumstances,  he  not  only  went  from 
breakfast-party  Number  One  to  breakfast-party  Number 
Two,  but  contrived  to  enjoy  them  both.  And,  in  the 
matter  of  Brazenface  College  versus  the  Mitre  Hotel,  it 
would  have  puzzled  a  Lucullus  to  decide  to  which 
breakfast  to  award  the  palm.  It  must  have  been  from 
a  full  knowledge  of  the  powers  of  the  College  cook  that 
Mr.  Four-in-hand  Fosbrooke,  with  an  artful  assumption 
of  the  capabilities  of  the  Brazenface  kitchen  and  buttery, 


AND  HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  91 

said,  "  There  's  not  much  choice  for  you  men ;  but  I 
hope  you  '11  find  something  to  your  liking.  And  if 
there's  anything  not  here  that  you  specially  desire, 
Coquus  will  send  it  up  in  a  twinkling."  It  was  like  to 
that  fabulous  host  whose  servant  having,  according  to  a 
prepared  plan,  fallen  down  as  he  entered  the  room  with 
the  turbot,  cried  out,  "  Bring  another  turbot!  "  and  the 
other  turbot,  exquisitely  cooked,  was  immediately 
brought.  It  was  evident  that  a  similar  faith  was  reposed 
in  Coquus,  and  that  it  was  believed  the  Brazenface  chef 
could  produce  any  dish  at  a  few  moments'  notice,  even 
if  the  order  were  given  for  cassowary  chops  or  roast 
ostrich. 

"  Coquus  "  was  the  name  by  which  the  head  cook  at 
Brazenface  was  familiarly  known.  He  was  a  highly 
important  personage,  with  an  official  salary  larger  than 
that  of  a  resident  tutor;  moreover,  he  was  believed  to 
make,  at  the  very  least  an  extra  two  hundred  a  year  by 
dripping  and  perquisites — things  that  were  equal 
mysteries  with  the  payments  to  the  University  chest. 
The  eldest  son  of  Mr.  Coquus  had  distinguished  himself 
at  a  grammar-school,  and  had  been  sent  to  a  leading 
college  in  the  rival  University,  where  his  birth  and  par 
entage  were  cleverly  ignored,  or  only  mentioned  in  a 
remote  way  that  would  not  lead  to  detection.  When 
pressed,  Coquus,  junior,  asserted  (with  truth)  that  his 
father  held  a  post  in  connection  with  the  University 
of  Oxford;  further  particulars  were  skilfully  evaded. 
Coquus,  senior,  was  not  only  a  man  who  might  be  con 
sidered  great,  from  his  official  position,  but  also  from 
his  personal  dimensions.  The  warmth  of  his  various 
ovens,  fires,  and  stoves  appeared  to  have  developed 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


every  particle  of  fatty  substance   in  his  body,  and  to 
have  bestowed  upon  him  a  rotundity  of  form  that  made 


his  figure  most  imposing  to  the  spectator.     The  head 
cook  of  Brazenface  was  not  often  visible  to  the  outer 


AND    HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  93 

world  in  his  professional  costume;  but  occasional 
glimpses  of  him  might  be  seen,  as  his  portly  figure  filled 
up  the  doorway  leading  to  the  kitchens,  the  while  he 
superintended  the  arrival  of  a  whole  cartload  of  meat,  or 
received  a  smaller  supply  of  sweetbreads  from  the 
basket  of  the  butcher's  boy.  Dignity  and  diffidence 
were  represented  on  such  an  occasion,  when  the  great 
Mr.  Coquus  gave  an  audience  to  the  small  Cook's 
excursionist. 

Mr.  Fosbrooke's  guests  must  have  been  hard  to  please 
if  they  could  not  find  something  to  their  liking  in  the 
various  dishes  which,  under  the  superintendence  of  Mr. 
Coquus,  were  set  before  them;  for  there  were  beef 
steaks,  devilled  kidneys,  poached  eggs  and  ham,  curried 
chicken,  veal  cutlets,  savoury  omelettes  with  bacon, 
pigeon  pie  (or  "  dove-tart,"  to  use  the  Oxford  vernac 
ular),  and  "  spread  eagle."  Concerning  this  last-named 
dish,  little  Mr.  Bouncer  said  to  Verdant  Green,  "  The 
Mum  heard  me  talk  about  it,  and  made  me  promise  to 
bring  her  a  recipe  for  it ;  so  I  have  got  Coquus  to  write 
it  down  for  me;  and,  when  you  come  to  us  in  the  Long, 
and  pay  us  your  promised  visit  at  my  little  shop  in 
Herefordshire,  I  daresay  the  Mum  will  give  you  some 
for  breakfast." 

It  may  as  well  here  be  noted  that  the  recipe  for  "  An 
Oxford  Spread-eagle,"  given  by  Mr.  Coquus  to  little 
Mr.  Bouncer,  and  by  him  handed  to  his  mother,  was  as 
follows: — "Take  a  fine,  tender  fowl;  split  it  down  its 
back,  and  carefully  press  it  flat.  Grill  it  on  a  gridiron 
over  a  glede  fire,  from  time  to  time  rubbing  it  with 
butter,  and  sprinkling  it  with  pepper.  In  about  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  it  will  be  well  cooked.  Serve  it  up 


94  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

to  table  with  mushroom  sauce."  When  little  Mr. 
Bouncer  handed  this  recipe  to  his  mother,  he  did  not 
tell  her  that  he  had  tipped  the  great  Mr.  Coquus  with  a 
sovereign.  Perhaps  such  tips  were  a  portion  of  the 
"  perquisites  "  of  the  great  cook  of  Brazenface. 

"  Pewter  Potter  promised  to  do  some  breakfast  with 
us,"  said  Mr.  Fosbrooke. 

"  Pewter  Potter?  who  is  he?  "  asked  Verdant  Green. 

"  Oh  !  he  is  a  New  man,"  was  the  reply. 

"  A  new  man?  Oh,  I  see !  You  mean  a  Freshman?  " 
said  Verdant  Green. 

"  No ;  I  mean  that  he  is  a  New  College  man,"  replied 
Mr.  Fosbrooke;  and  there  was  a  laugh  at  Verdant 
Green's  expense. 

"  Never  mind,  Giglamps,"  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer ; 
"  this  is  the  last  day  that  you  can  properly  be  called  a 
Freshman.  When  you  come  up  next  October,  after 
the  Long,  you  will  no  longer  be  a  Freshman  in  name, 
and  it  will  be  your  own  fault  if  you  are  then  a  fresh 
man  by  nature.  Won't  it,  old  fellow?  " 

"Either  my  fault  or  my  misfortune,"  observed 
Verdant. 

"  You  're  late !  you  must  make  up  for  lost  time,"  said 
Mr.  Fosbrooke  to  Mr.  Pewter  Potter,  who  just  then 
entered  the  room. 

"  I  had  to  see  to  the  boats,"  explained  that  gentleman, 
as  he  seated  himself  at  the  table,  and  began  vigorously 
to  make  up  for  the  lost  time.  Mr.  Pewter  Potter  took 
a  great  interest  in  his  College  crew,  and  had  been  re 
cently  coached  in  his  trial  eights. 

"  Your  boat  has  done  famously,"  said  Mr.  Fosbrooke. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Pewter  Potter ;  "  though  I  hope 
we  shall  do  still  better  next  Term.  But  we  had  rather 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  95 

hard  lines  ;  for  we  had  to  pull  in  the  wash  of  the  Pem 
broke  boat.  Fortunately  for  us,  Pembroke  rowed  in 
awfully  bad  form,  and,  at  the  last,  had  not  a  spurt  left  in 
them.  We  won  by  the  skin  of  our  teeth,  and  that  was 
all.  I  suppose  you  are  going  down,  as  usual,  on  the 
box  of  the  Birmingham  coach?  " 

Mr.  Four-in-hand  Fosbrooke  acknowledged  that  such 
was  his  intention,  and  that  it  was,  even  then,  time  for 
him  to  start.  "  So,  I  must  leave  you  men  to  help  your 
selves.  You  and  I  must  be  off,  Green,  or  we  shall  be 
too  late  for  the  coach." 

Then,  good-byes  were  said,  and  little  Mr.  Bouncer  — 
who  was  presently  followed  by  Mr.  Smalls,  Mr.  Pewter 
Potter,  and  one  or  two  others  of  the  party  —  accom 
panied  them  to  the  Mitre,  from  whence  the  famous 
four-horse  coach  started  to  Birmingham.  There  also 
were  other  Oxford  men,  who  preferred  that  old  mode 
of  conveyance  to  the  newer  railway;  perhaps,  because 
it  carried  them  nearer  to  their  various  destinations.  The 
breakfast-party  given  by  Mr.  Smirke  and  Mr.  Bulpit  was 
not  yet  over,  for  some  of  the  guests  appeared  at  the 
open  windows  on  the  first  floor,  from  whence,  as  they 
smoked,  they  were  looking  on  at  the  lading  of  the 
coach  down  below. 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer  and  Verdant  Green  went  into  the 
coffee-room ;  and,  as  Verdant  leant  against  one  of  the 
pillars  near  to  the  bow-window,  and  selected  from  his 
cigar-case  a  particularly  mild  Havannah,  his  friend  said 
to  him,  "  I  'm  like  a  parient  to  you,  Giglamps  !  —  coming 
here  and  seeing  you  safe  off  the  premises,  and  keeping 
a  sharp  look-out,  lest  you  should  elope  with  old  Mother 
Tester  !  Well,  you  've  said  good-bye  to  Brazenface  for 
a  time ;  and  now  you  Ve  got  to  say  good-bye  for  a  time 


96  LITTLE  MR.   BOUNCER 

to  yours,  truly.     Don't  forget  your  promise  to  come  and 
see  me  in  the  Long." 

"  I  shall  be  sure  not  to  forget  that,"  said  Verdant. 


"Now,  gentlemen,  the  coach  is  ready,"  said  the 
guard,  looking  into  the  room. 

"Are  you  going  to  tool  the  tits?"  asked  little  Mr. 
Bouncer. 

"No;  I  shall  leave  that  and  the  box  seat  to  Fos- 
brooke,"  replied  Verdant. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  97 

"  Well,  good  bye,  Giglamps.  Give  my  love  to  Sairey 
and  the  little  tins,"  said  Mr.  Bouncer,  with  a  kind  remem 
brance  of  imaginary  individuals. 

Verdant  Green  clambered  up  to  his  seat  behind  the 
coachman ;  nodded  another  farewell  to  little  Mr.  Boun 
cer,  who  waved  his  cap  as  a  parting  salute  ;  the  horses' 
heads  were  let  go;  and  the  coach  clattered  up  the 
High. 


98 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

LITTLE    MR.   BOUNCER    HAS   HIS  ATTENTION    DIRECTED 
TO   COACHES   AND   COACHMEN. 


^    I 


HE  two  friends,  Mr.  Ver 
dant  Green  and  little  Mr. 
Bouncer,  had  bidden  each 
other  farewell  for  a  brief 
season ;  and  the  former, 
mounted  on  the  top  of  the 
Warwickshire  coach,  was 
quickly  lost  to  the  view  of 
the  latter,  as  the  horses  clat 
tered  up  the  High.  In  an 
other  ten  minutes,  the  spires 
and  towers  of  the  beautiful 
City  of  Colleges,  shining 
brightly  in  the  full  sunshine 
of  a  lovely  day  in  June,  were 
barely  visible  to  the  short- 
sighted  gentleman  whom  Mr. 
Bouncer  had  called  "  Giglamps,"  although  he  turned 
round  on  the  top  of  the  coach,  and  peeped  from  behind 
its  mountain  of  luggage,  to  get  one  other  glimpse  of  the 
spot  where  he  had  passed  his  first  happy  and  eventful 
term  as  an  Oxford  Freshman. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  99 

It  was  a  very  pleasant  journey  to  Mr.  Verdant  Green. 
When  they  had  got  some  distance  on  the  road,  the 
coachman  gave  up  the  reins  to  his  box-seat  passenger, 
who,  from  the  workmanlike  way  in  which  he  drove, 
showed  that  his  sobriqiiet  "  Four-in-hand "  Fosbrooke 
had  been  deservedly  earned.  When  Mr.  Fosbrooke  had 
been  put  down  at  his  destination,  Verdant  took  his  place 
on  the  box-seat,  without,  however,  (as  Mr.  Bouncer  had 
suggested),  making  any  proposition  to  the  coachman 
to  allow  him  to  "  tool  the  tits,"  or  "  handle  the  'ribbons ; " 
which  was  quite  as  well,  as  the  professional  Jehu  would 
have  promptly,  and,  perhaps,  curtly,  refused  his  request. 
But  Verdant  made  himself  agreeable  by  supplying  the 
coachman  with  cigars,  and  attending  to  his  wants  of 
"  six  of  gin,  hot,"  at  the  various  inns  where  they 
stopped  to  change  horses.  Of  course,  Verdant  smoked 
his  weed  as  became  an  Oxford  man  and  a  box-seat 
passenger;  and,  although  he  could  now  perform  this 
feat  without  a  recurrence  of  those  disagreeable  sensa 
tions  that  he  had  experienced  at  his  first  wine-party  at 
Mr.  Smalls',  yet  it  must  be  confessed  that,  on  the  pres 
ent  occasion,  he  somewhat  exceeded  his  quantity  even 
of  the  mildest  Havannahs,  and  was  not  sorry  when  the 
coach  pulled  up  at  the  cross-roads,  where  his  father's 
carriage  was  in  waiting  to  take  him  to  the  Manor  Green. 
Having  tipped  the  coachman,  who  had  delighted  him 
by  observing  that  he  "was  a  young  gent  as  had  much 
himproved  hisself  since  he  tooled  him  up  to  the  'Varsity 
with  his  guvnor,"  and  having  seen  to  the  transference 
of  his  luggage  (no  longer  encased  in  canvas  after  the 
manner  of  females)  from  the  coach  to  the  carriage,  he 
saw  the  Warwickshire  mail  drive  away  along  the  dusty 
road  towards  Birmingham;  and  then,  turning  to  the 


IOO  LITTLE   MR.  BOUNCER 

Manor  Green  servant,  was  on  the  verge  of  saying,  "  I 
hope  my  mamma  and  papa  are  quite  well,"  when  he 
stopped  himself  just  in  time,  with  the  thought  that  he 
was  now  an  Oxford  man,  and  altered  his  query  to  "  All 
well  at  home,  Jenkins?  "  They  were  all  well,  and  how 
heartily  they  received  him  has  been  recorded  by  the 
faithful  historian  in  other  pages  than  these. 

Turn  we  now,  for  a  season,  to  a  record  of  the  say 
ings  and  doings  of  Verdant  Green's  friend,  little  Mr. 
Bouncer. 

After  the  Warwickshire  coach,  with  its  freight  of 
Oxford  men,  had  driven  away  from  the  Mitre,  Mr. 
Bouncer  lingered  there  some  little  time  longer  in  com 
pany  with  Mr.  Smalls,  Charles  Larkyns,  Pewter  Potter, 
and  one  or  two  others  who  were  gathered  together  in 
that  favourite  haunt,  the  coffee-room.  They  had  con 
sidered  that  bitter  beer  would  be  an  acceptable  refresh 
ment  on  a  hot  June  morning;  and  they  had,  therefore, 
ordered  the  waiter  to  bring  them  a  due  supply.  It  was 
that  same  waiter,  whose  face  resembled  the  interior  half 
of  a  sliced  muffin,  who  had  attended  upon  Verdant 
Green  and  his  father  when  they  made  their  first  appear 
ance  in  Oxford,  and  had  stayed  at  the  Mitre.  As  he 
brought  in  the  bitter  beer,  Charles  Larkyns  said,  "  I 
am  somewhat  of  a  connoisseur  in  art;  but,  after  all, 
there  is  nothing  that  I  admire  more  than  this  Bass' 
relief." 

"  Oh,  Charley  !  "  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  with  a  groan 
of  anguish ;  "  we  will  hope  that  you  will  do  better  if 
you  are  to  do  bitters." 

The  muffin-faced  waiter  opened  the  bottles  of  Bass, 
emptied  their  liquid  amber  into  the  various  glasses, 
brushed  some  imaginary  crumbs  from  the  table,  and  van- 


AND    HIS   FRIEND    VERDANT   GREEN. 


IOI 


ished.     The  conversation  turned  upon  Mr.  Four-in-hand 
Fosbrooke  and  his  friend  the  coachman. 

"  Like  Jack  Adams,  of  the  Royal  Defiance,  that  man 
is  a  bit  of  a  character,"  said  Charles  Larkyns,  "  as  are 
many  of  his  race;  more  especially  those  who  have 


driven  University  coaches :  like,  for  example,  Smith  of 
the  Blue  Boar,  Trinity  Street,  Cambridge,  who  drove  the 
Newmarket  and  Bury  St.  Edmunds  coach  that  went  by 
the  name  of  the  Slow  and  Dirty.  Then,  there  was  the 
Oxford  coachman  who  had  acquired  a  parrot-like  facility 
for  spouting  scraps  out  of  the  Latin  Grammar,  for  the 
use,  and  abuse,  of  which  specimens  of  the  dead  language 
he  was  known  as  the  Classical  Coachman.  Many  of 
these  old  fellows  are  quaint  characters." 


102 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


"I  was  told,  the  other  day,"  said  Mr.  Pewter  Potter, 
"  a  story  about  old  White,  who  used  to  drive  the  Oxford 
and  Cambridge  coach,  and  who,  consequently,  had 
many  conversations  with  University  men,  who  asked  his 
opinions  on  a  variety  of  subjects.  He  was  once  asked 


by  a  Cambridge  man  whether  he  thought  Oxford  men 
more  gentlemanly  than  Cambridge  men ;  and  he  replied, 
'  Though  you  're  going  to  Cambridge,  sir,  I  '11  tell  you 
truly  what  I  think.  I  drives  an  Oxford  gent  down,  and, 
when  he  gets  to  the  end  of  his  journey,  he  says,  "  Mr. 
White,"  he  says,  "  I  shall  be  happy  to  see  you  to  my 


AND    HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  103 

rooms  to  wine  this  evening ;  "  and  then  he  hands  me  his 
card  with  his  name  printed  upon  it.  Well,  I  goes  at  the 
proper  time,  and  there  I  finds  a  many  gents  seated  over 
various  liquors ;  and  Mr.  So-and-so  points  to  a  chair, 
and  says,  "  Here  's  a  seat  for  you,  Mr.  White,  alongside 
o'  me.  Glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  White.  What  wine  do 
you  take?  here's  claret,  if  you  prefer  it."  So  then, 
perhaps,  I  has  a  glass  or  two  o'  claret,  and  helps  myself 
to  what  I  like ;  and  Mr.  So-and-so  pushes  towards  me  a 
box  o'  cigars  and  a  jar  o'  baccy;  and  he  says,  "Take 
a  weed,  Mr.  White ;  or,  if  you  prefer  it,  have  a  pipe, 
Mr.  White,  and  I  '11  join  you."  So,  then  we  smoke  a 
pipe  or  two,  and  drink  perhaps  more  than  a  glass  or 
two ;  and  then  comes  in  supper  —  some  hot  game,  and 
wiands  warious.  And  Mr.  So-and-so  insists  on  helping 
me  first,  and  says,  "  What  part  do  you  take,  Mr. 
White?"  And  I  says,  "Thankee,  sir,  I'm  in  noways 
pertickler."  "  They  're  all  here,"  says  he ;  so  I  fixes  on 
the  liver  wing,  and  he  sends  it  me.  Then,  after  supper, 
we  has  a  drop  of  grog,  and  smokes  one  or  two  more 
pipes ;  and  then  I  gets  up  and  makes  my  obeisance  to 
them,  and  says,  "  I  wish  you  all  a  very  good  night,  gen 
tlemen  ;  and  I  'm  much  obleeged  to  you  for  your 
civility."  Well,  sir,  that 's  Oxford.  I  drives  a  gent  to 
Cambridge ;  and,  perhaps,  the  gent  asks  me  to  look  in 
at  his  rooms  some  time  that  evening,  if  I  likes.  So  I 
goes,  and  I  finds  a  many  gents  there,  also  with  their 
liquors.  And  Mr.  So-and-so  says,  "  Well,  old  buck ! 
I  'm  glad  to  see  you.  Clap  yourself  into  a  cheer  some 
where."  So  I  sets  myself  down,  where  I  can.  Then 
the  wine  comes  round,  and  I  looks  at  the  bottles  to  see 
which  is  which.  "  Oh,  I  daresay,  old  buck,  you  'd 
rather  have  something  hot !  "  says  Mr.  So-and-so,  and  he 


104  LITTLE  MR.   BOUNCER 

hands  out  the  brandy.  So,  as  I  don't  like  to  interfere 
with  the  arrangements,  I  says,  "Thankee,  sir;"  and 
they  has  the  wine,  while  I  has  the  brandy.  Then  they 
ask  me  questions  about  the  coaches  that  I  have  druv, 
and  about  the  horses  and  passengers,  and  all  that. 
Then  says  Mr.  So-and-so,  "  You  'd  like  to  smoke  a  pipe, 
old  buck,  I  daresay."  So  I  smokes  a  pipe.  Then 
comes  in  supper,  and  hot  game  and  wiands,  also  wari- 
ous;  and  Mr.  So-and-so  helps  'em  all  round;  and,  when 
he  has  finished  them  he  says,  "  Old  buck,  would  you 
like  to  pick  a  bit  of  pheasant?  "  Well,  sir,  that's  Cam 
bridge  —  at  least,  according  to  my  experience.'  So," 
said  Mr.  Pewter  Potter,  as  he  ended  his  anecdote,  "  old 
White  evidently  gave  the  preference  to  Oxford." 

"  Old  White  was  a  wise  man,"  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer, 
with  a  pardonable  preference  for  his  own  Alma  Mater. 

Here  they  were  joined  by  some  of  the  stragglers  from 
the  breakfast  party  that  had  been  given  in  the  room 
above  by  Messrs.  Bulpit  and  Smirke ;  and  then  they 
dispersed  to  their  various  Colleges,  from  which,  ere  the 
evening  had  come,  they  would  have  gone  forth  in  quest 
of  the  pleasures  of  the  Long  Vacation. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN. 


105 


CHAPTER  XV. 


LITTLE  MR.    BOUNCER   LEAVES   OXFORD   IN   COMPANY 
WITH   MR.    SMALLS. 


ITTLE  Mr.  Bouncer  and 
Mr.  Smalls,  having  no 
very  tedious  railway  jour 
ney  before  them,  did  not 
leave  Oxford  until  the 
afternoon  of  the  day  on 
which  Verdant  Green  and 
Mr.  Four-in-hand  Fos- 
brooke  had  quitted  the 
City  of  Colleges  on  the 
top  of  the  Warwickshire 
coach.  By  luncheon  time, 
the  University  had  lost 
the  larger  portion  of  its 
and  Oxford  tradesmen 


members 

would  be  compelled  to  wait  three  months  for 
the  return  of  their  best  customers.  This  is  a  serious 
item  in  connection  with  the  much-abused  credit  system, 
that  must  be  considered  whenever  any  so-called  over 
charges  of  Oxford  tradesmen  are  questioned  by  a  Pater 
familias.  People  must  needs  make  hay  while  the  sun 
shines ;  and  if  the  sun  is  under  a  cloud  for  a  quarter  of 
the  year,  it  is  clear  that  no  hay  can  be  made  during 


106  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

that  space  of  time.  And,  indeed  Oxford  tradesmen 
might  make  a  pithy  proverb  to  suit  their  own  case :  — 

With  sons  away, 
We  can't  make  hay, 

and,  therefore,  it  behoves  them  to  turn  the  sons  to  as 
much  account  as  possible  during  Term  time,  with  the 
hope  that  the  sons'  parents  and  governors  will  not,  in 
the  Long  Vacation,  or  whenever  the  bills  are  presented, 
repudiate  their  liabilities,  and  set  up  the  preposterous 
plea  of  infancy. 

In  accepting  the  invitation  to  go  down  with  Mr. 
Smalls  for  a  day  or  two  in  the  country,  little  Mr.  Bouncer 
experienced  a  difficulty  with  regard  to  the  disposal  of 
Huz  and  Buz.  He  scarcely  liked  to  leave  them  in  the 
coal-cellar  outside  his  room-door  at  Brazenface,  there  to 
be  fitfully  attended  to,  or  wholly  neglected,  by  Mrs. 
Tester  and  Mr.  Robert  Filcher;  and  he  did  not  wish  to 
be  temporarily  separated  from  them,  even  if  they  were 
placed  in  Tollitt's  stables,  or  confided  to  the  care  of  Mr. 
Charley  Symonds.  But  when  he  mentioned  his  hesita 
tion  to  Mr.  Smalls,  that  gentleman  at  once  solved  the 
difficulty  by  extending  his  invitation  to  Huz  and  Buz, 
and  promising  that  they  should  be  heartily  welcomed  at 
his  father's  house  during  the  time  of  their  master's  visit. 
Mr.  Bouncer  was,  therefore,  made  easy  in  his  mind  on 
this,  to  him,  important  subject.  Not  that  Huz  and  Buz 
were  personages  to  be  dealt  with  easily  in  their  transit 
from  place  to  place ;  and  at  the  Oxford  railway  station 
they  rendered  themselves  especially  obnoxious  and  dis 
agreeable  —  now,  frightening  timid  ladies  by  their  loud 
barkings  and  profuse  display  of  teeth  ;  and  then  making 
wild  rushes  at  the  tempting  calves  of  little  children  and 


AND    HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  IO/ 

old  gentlemen.  They  were  far  too  noisy  and  obtrusive 
to  enable  Mr.  Bouncer  to  smuggle  them  into  his  own 
carriage ;  and  the  guard,  being  proof  against  bribes, 
insisted  on  their  being  placed  in  a  locker  in  the  luggage 
van.  Then  followed  an  agitating  scene  with  a  large  but 
loose-limbed  porter,  who  essayed  to  gain  the  confidence 
of  the  two  bull-terriers,  and  failed  to  find  them  recipro 
cate  his  attentions.  After  all,  their  master  had  to  sum 
marily  and  roughly  thrust  them  into  the  locker  at  the 
very  last  moment  before  the  starting  of  the  train ;  for 
Huz  and  Buz  set  at  defiance  and  kept  at  bay  both  porters 
and  guards. 

In  that  dark  age,  a  smoking  compartment  was  an 
unknown  luxury  on  railway  lines;  but  as  there  were 
several  Oxford  men  who  were  going  down  by  that  train, 
they  secured  a  carriage  to  themselves,  where  they  could 
blow  a  cloud  to  their  hearts'  content;  and,  of  course, 
Mr.  Smalls  and  little  Mr.  Bouncer  were  two  of  the  pas 
sengers  in  that  particular  carriage.  In  the  train,  too, 
were  several  young  ladies  with  their  mothers  and  chap- 
erones,  who  were  on  their  way  back  home  from  the 
Commemoration,  in  company  with  elderly  dons,  younger 
tutors  and  fellows,  and  brotherly  or  cousinly  undergrad 
uates.  Thus  the  University  was  largely  represented, 
and  contributed  an  unusual  number  of  passengers  to  the 
train.  It  slid  out  of  the  station ;  and  in  another  half- 
hour  Oxford  had  been  lost  to  sight,  and  its  familiar 
aspect  and  well-known  spires  and  towers  could  only  be 
viewed  in  dreams  or  memory. 

The  railway  journey  of  little  Mr.  Bouncer  and  Mr. 
Smalls  was  terminated  at  the  Poynton  Station,  where 
they  bade  adieu  to  their  undergraduate  companions, 
and  released  Huz  and  Buz  from  their  temporary  impris- 


io8 


LITTLE   MR.    BOUNCER 


onment  in  the  locker.     The  two  travellers  had  between 
them  an  abundance  of  luggage ;  for  their  impedimenta  — 
exclusive  of  Huz  and  Buz — included  a  weighty  box  of 


books,  which  Mr.  Smalls  made  it  a  point  of  honour  to 
carry  down  with  him  at  the  end  of  the  June  Term,  alleg 
ing  that  he  intended  "  to  read  hard  for  his  Little-go 
during  the  Long ;  "  though  it  is  to  be  feared  that  his 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  109 

virtuous  intentions  in  this  respect  were  not  destined  to 
be  carried  into  effect,  and  that  the  box  of  books  would 
remain  unopened  until  it  was  taken  back  to  Oxford  in  the 
ensuing  October.  There  was  a  horse  and  cart  for  the 
luggage ;  and  there  was  a  mail  phaeton  and  pair  for 
the  two  travellers.  Mr.  Smalls  lighted  a  fresh  cigar, 
and  took  the  reins;  Mr.  Bouncer  occupied  the  place 
beside  him  with  Huz  and  Buz  on  the  driving-apron  at 
his  feet;  the  coachman  jumped  up  behind;  and  away 
they  drove  from  the  Poynton  Station. 

It  was  six  miles  to  the  Woodlands  —  which  was  the 
name  of  the  house  where  lived  Mr.  Smalls'  father ;  and 
it  was  a  very  pleasant  drive  through  a  richly  timbered 
country,  whose  wealth  of  greenery  was  irradiated  by  a 
June  sun  that  was  flooding  the  western  sky  with  a  sea  of 
gold.  The  quick-stepping  horses  took  them  along  at  a 
rapid  pace,  along  dusty  turnpike  roads,  and  down  shady 
tree-arched  lanes,  until  they  brought  them  to  a  little 
village,  with  a  scattered  group  of  cottages  and  farm 
houses,  a  smithy,  a  public-house,  a  rectory,  a  new 
school,  an  old  church,  and  a  large  house  in  a  small 
park,  with  a  tiny  lodge  at  the  gate  near  to  the  village 
school. 

"  Here  we  are  at  the  Woodlands !  "  said  Mr.  Smalls, 
as  he  reined  up  the  horses  at  this  little  lodge,  and  re 
turned  the  greeting  of  the  woman  who  opened  the  gate. 

"  What  a  pity  that  I  put  my  post-horn  in  my  port 
manteau  !  "  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer.  "  I  generally  carry 
it  loose  with  walking-sticks,  umbrellas,  fishing-rods,  and 
that  sort  of  gear.  If  I  had  it  out  I  could  have  given  a 
tantivity  to  signal  our  approach.  '  Hark  !  'tis  the  twang 
ing  horn  from  yonder  bridge !  he  comes,  the  herald  of 
a  noisy  world  !  '  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  Perhaps  if  I 


no 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


pinched  Huz  and  Buz's  tails  and  made  them  bark  that 
would  help  us  a  bit.  Or,  as  your  shop  is  called  the 
Woodlands,  we  might  sing  in  chorus,  '  Haste  to  the 


woodlands,  haste  away !  Lads  and  lasses,  all  so  gay ! ' 
Whichever  you  choose,  my  little  dears ;  we  are  in  no 
ways  pertickler,  especially  when  you  pays  your  money, 
wipes  your  innocent  noses,  and  don't  breathe  on  the 
glasses." 

But  although  Mr.  Smalls  did 'not,  like  the  Irish  pos- 


AND    HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  Ill 

tilion,  reserve  a  canter  for  the  avenue,  but  drove  up  it  at 
a  moderate  pace,  they  had  arrived  at  the  hall  door  of 
the  Woodlands  before  little  Mr.  Bouncer  had  decided 
to  carry  into  effect  any  of  the  propositions  that  he  had 
just  made  to  his  friend.  Yet  he  realized  the  fact  that 
he  had  left  Oxford  and  Brazenface  behind  him,  and  that 
he  had  entered  upon  the  three  months'  enjoyments  of  the 
Long  Vacation.  During  the  pleasant  time  of  that  long 
summer  holiday,  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  entertain  his 
friend  Verdant  Green  at  his  own  home  in  Herefordshire. 


112 


LITTLE   MR    BOUNCER 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

LITTLE    MR.   BOUNCER    FORMS    THE   ACQUAINTANCE  OF 
DR.  DUSTACRE. 

THEIR  way  from  the 
Poynton  Station  to  the 
Woodlands,  Mr.  Smalls 
had  given  some  partic 
ulars  of  his  family  to*the 
friend  who  was  going  to 
be  his  father's  guest, 
but  who,  as  yet,  had 
only  known  him  at  Bra- 
zenface  as  a  College 
friend.  His  mother  was 
dead  ;  his  elder  brother 
was  in  the  army;  a 

„__  ^_^  younger  one  was  in  the 

merchant   service ;     his 

eldest  sister  was  married ;  his  younger  sister  and  two 
younger  brothers  were  at  school,  and  would  not  be  at 
home  for  some  weeks  to  come.  Except  his  father  and 
the  servants,  the  only  other  inmate  of  the  house,  at  that 
time,  was  a  cousin  —  a  son  of  the  Squire's  sister  — 
Thomas  Winstanley  by  name,  who  had  been  early  left 
an  orphan,  and  had  been  adopted  by  his  uncle,  who  had 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  113 

educated  him  with  his  own  children.    Young  Winstanley 
was  now  eighteen  years  of  age. 

"  It  is  a  very  sad  case,"  said  Mr.  Smalls  to  Mr.  Boun 
cer,  as  he  drove  him  from  the  Poynton  Station  to  the 


Woodlands;  "he  used  to  be  the  nicest  lad  possible; 
bright  and  intelligent.  But  he  had  a  fever;  and,  since 
then,  softening  of  the  brain,  or  something  of  that  sort, 
has  come  on.  He  is  quite  harmless,  though  he  is  not 
quite  right  in  his  head.  He  fancies  all  sorts  of  things ; 
forgets  his  own  name ;  thinks  that  he  has  not  been  at  my 

8 


114  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

governor's  for  years,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  He  is 
very  shy  at  meeting  strangers  ;  and,  perhaps,  will  avoid 
you,  or  not  speak  to  you,  if  you  meet  him.  It  is  but 
right  to  tell  you  this,  in  order  to  put  you  on  your  guard  ; 
but  you  will  now  understand  how  matters  are,  if  you 
should  meet  poor  Tom  and  he  should  seem  queer." 

"  Poor  fellow  ! "  said  Mr.  Bouncer.  "  I  understand  ; 
and  I  will  try  not  to  annoy  him." 

Then  they  reached  the  Woodlands  and  had  a  hearty 
welcome  from  Mr.  Smalls,  the  Squire.  -"You  must 
kindly  take  us  just  as  we  are,  Mr.  Bouncer,"  he  said. 
"  Circumstances,  unfortunately,  have  prevented  my  ask 
ing  friends  to  meet  you.  We  dine  in  an  hour.  Perhaps 
you  would  like  to  see  your  room?  "  So,  Mr.  Bouncer 
went  upstairs,  under  the  escort  of  a  man-servant. 

"  How  's  poor  Tom?  "  asked  young  Mr.  Smalls  of  his 
father  when  they  were  left  alone. 

"  Your  cousin  is  much  worse,"  replied  the  Squire. 
"  During  the  last  week  he  has  developed  fresh  symp 
toms,  and  seems  inclined  to  be  unruly.  I  think  it  will 
be  needful  to  put  him  under  restraint  for  a  time,  and 
remove  him  to  some  place  where  he  can  be  properly  at 
tended  to.  Johnson  " —  this  was  their  surgeon's  name  — 
"  is  quite  of  that  opinion.  He  says  that  in  these  mental 
diseases  the  very  kindest  and  wisest  course  to  pursue  is 
to  place  the  patient  at  once  under  the  strictest  medical 
surveillance;  and  that,  in  nine  cases  out  often,  the  disease, 
when  thus  taken  in  time,  can  be  very  greatly  alleviated, 
if  not  wholly  cured.  As  poor  Tom's  guardian,  I,  of  course, 
stand  to  him  in  loco  parcntis ;  and  I  am  bound  to  care 
for  him,  as  I  would  do  for  one  of  my  own  children." 

"  Of  course ;  Tom  is  one  of  us,  and  we  all  look  upon 
him  as  a  brother.  What  does  Johnson  advise?" 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  115 

"  He  agreed  with  me  that  it  would  be  better  to  refer 
poor  Tom's  case  to  Dr.  Dustacre ;  and  I  did  so,"  re 
plied  the  Squire. 

"Who  is  Dr.  Dustacre?    I  don't  remember  his  name." 

"  No ;  you  don't  know  him,"  said  the  Squire.  "  But 
he  is  a  medical  man  of  very  much  experience  and  skill  in 
mental  diseases.  I  used  to  know  him,  some  years  ago, 
when,  as  a  magistrate,  I  had  to  visit  the  County  Lunatic 
Asylum,  of  which  he  had  then  the  management.  Since 
that  time  he  has  had  a  private  establishment  at  Fairford, 
which  is  very  well  spoken  of,  and  where  poor  Tom,  if  it 
were  needful  for  him  to  go  there,  would  find  'all  the 
home-comforts  that  he  has  been  used  to.  I  have  inter 
changed  one  or  two  letters  with  Dr.  Dustacre  on  this 
painful  subject,  and  have  suggested  that  he  should  come 
here  and  see  poor  Tom.  I  daresay  there  will  be  a 
letter  from  him  in  the  morning,  to  make  an  appoint 
ment.  I  am  sorry  that  this  should  occur  at  the  time  of 
your  friend's  visit ;  but  I  hope  that  Mr.  Bouncer  will 
not  allow  it  to  interfere  with  any  little  amusement  that 
he  may  be  able  to  find  at  the  Woodlands.  Does  he 
know  about  poor  Tom?  " 

"  Yes ;  as  we  came  along  from  Poynton,  I  told  him 
all  that  it  was  needful  for  him  to  know." 

"  Then,  nothing  more  need  be  said  on  the  subject  in 
his  presence.  It  is  useless  to  obtrude  upon  him  a  pain 
ful  family  business  in  which  he  can  have  no  personal 
interest,  and  in  which  he  cannot  render  any  aid." 

As  Mr.  Smalls  quite  agreed  with  his  father  on  this 
point  no  mention  was  made,  that  evening,  to  Mr.  Boun 
cer,  of  young  Tom  Winstanley,  who  failed  to  put  in 
an  appearance  at  dinner,  preferring  to  take  that  meal 
in  his  own  room,  where  he  could  not  be  watched  by  the 
eyes  of  a  stranger. 


Il6  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

The  letter-bag  was  not  delivered  at  the  Woodlands 
until  after  breakfast-time.  It  brought,  the  next  morning, 
the  expected  letter  from  Dr.  Dustacre  to  Mr.  Smalls; 
and  stated  that  he  would  pay  a  visit  to  the  Woodlands 
on  that  day,  and  would  take  a  conveyance  from  the 
Poynton  Station,  which  he  presumed  would  be  his 
nearest  point. 

"  So  it  is,"  said  the  Squire,  to  his  son,  as  they  talked 
together  in  the  study,  little  Mr.  Bouncer  not  being  pres 
ent.  "  Geographically  speaking,  Poynton  is  certainly 
our  nearest  station ;  but  Dr.  Dustacre  is  not  aware  that 
no  vehicle  of  any  description  can  be  obtained  there. 
Barham  Station  is  the  point  that  he  ought  to  make  for. 
There  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  meet  him  at  Poynton. 
I  should  think  he  would  be  there  by  the  twelve-thirty- 
five  train.  You  had  better  drive  me ;  and  then  we  can 
talk  over  matters  with  the  Doctor  without  a  servant 
listening  to  what  we  say.  I  daresay  your  friend,  Mr. 
Bouncer,  will  excuse  our  absence,  and  we  shall  not  be 
away  long." 

Mr.  Smalls  the  younger  therefore  sought  out  his  col 
lege  friend  and  said,  "  My  father  wants  me  to  drive  him 
over  to  the  Poynton  Station  on  a  matter  connected  with 
poor  Tom.  I  hope  you  won't  mind  me  leaving  you  for 
two  or  three  hours.  We  shall  be  back  to  luncheon." 

"  Pray  don't  mind  me.  I  '11  make  myself  happy,  and 
poke  about,  and  have  a  look  over  the  premises,"  replied 
Mr.  Bouncer. 

So  the  two  Mr.  Smalls,  father  and  son,  drove  off  to 
the  Poynton  Station  ;  and  Mr.  Bouncer  lighted  his  pipe, 
and  paid  a  visit  to  Huz  and  Buz,  who  were  delighted  to 
see  him,  and  were  still  further  pleased  when  he  released 
them  from  the  stable  in  which  they  had  been  penned, 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  117 

and  took  them  with  him  for  a  stroll  round  the  gardens 
and  little  park,  which,  from  its  fine  and  plentiful  timber, 
justified  the  name  of  "  The  Woodlands  "  that  had  been 
given  to  the  house.  It  was  a  fine  summer's  morning, 
and  a  quiet  walk  and  meditative  pipe  under  the  shade 
of  the  wide-spreading  trees  was  very  agreeable  to  Mr. 
Bouncer  and  his  canine  pets.  When  he  had  brought  his 
stroll  to  an  end,  and  was  passing  by  the  house,  he  saw 
that  he  was  furtively  watched,  from  the  window  of  the 
study,  by  a  young  man,  whom  he  judged,  and  rightly 
so,  to  be  Mr.  Winstanley.  Little  Mr.  Bouncer  thought 
to  himself,  "  I  will  go  in  and  try  to  make  friends  with 
him."  But  when  he  had  put  Huz  and  Buz  in  their 
stable,  and  had  returned  to  the  house,  he  found  the 
study  deserted.  Winstanley  had  seen  him  coming,  and 
had  crept  out  of  doors  into  the  garden  through  the 
open  window. 

The  morning  newspapers  were  on  the  table;  so  Mr. 
Bouncer  concluded  that  he  would  have  a  look  at  them, 
and  that,  while  he  was  doing  so,  young  Winstanley  would 
probably  return.  The  atmosphere  was  warm,  the  chair 
was  comfortable,  the  pipe  that  he  had  been  smoking 
had  exercised  a  soothing  influence,  and  Mr.  Bouncer 
found  that  the  "Times"  leader  on  the  political  crisis  in 
Moldavia  failed  to  convey  to  his  mind  any  other  feelings 
than  those  that  invited  slumber.  He  read  dreamily 
through  the  well-phrased  lines  of  exquisite  English,  and 
had  just  succeeded  in  dismissing  Moldavia  and  its  crisis 
to  the  realms  of  forgetfulness,  when  he  was  roused  from 
his  forty  winks  of  sleep  by  some  one  entering  the  room. 

This  some  one  was  no  other  person  than  Dr.  Dust- 
acre,  who  shut  the  door  behind  him,  and  made  a  low 
bow  to.  little  Mr.  Bouncer. 


n8 


LITTLE  MR.   BOUNCER 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

LITTLE  MR.   BOUNCER  IS   SOMEWHAT   SURPRISED 
AT  DR.   DUSTACRE. 

DUSTACRE  had  the  aspect  of  a  bird  • 
perhaps  a  raven,  after  its  metempsy 
chosis,  would  have  presented  much 
the  same  appearance.  Pythagoras 
might  have  credited  him  to  have 
belonged,  at  some  previous  stage  of 
his  existence,  to  a  member  of  the 
corvine  tribe ;  and  even  those  who 
did  not  adopt  the  old  Samian  creed 
may,  in  looking  at  his  strange  face 
and  the  general  solemnity  of  his 
countenance,  have  gazed  upon  him 
with  a  certain  superstitious  awe,  as 
though  he  were  a  bird  of  ill  omen. 
Physiologists  and  phrenologists,  from 
Theophrastus  to  Gall,  Spurzheim,  and  Lavater,  would 
have  been  delighted  to  make  their  observations  on  the 
head  and  face  of  Dr.  Dustacre,  and  to  have  propounded 
their  pet  theories  from  a  superficial  examination  of  his 
nose  and  forehead. 

The  latter  was  very  high  and  bald,  coming  almost  to 
a  point  at  the  summit  where  the  skilled    phrenologist 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  119 

would  place  the  organ  of  veneration,  which  is  termed, 
by  the  unlearned  and  vulgar,  "  the  bump  of  benevo 
lence."  If,  therefore,  the  disciples  of  Gall  were  correct 
in  their  theories,  it  was  indubitable  that  Dr.  Dustacre 
was  a  kind  and  good  man ;  but  the  peculiar  form  of  his 
bald  head  made  it  resemble  the  polished  egg  of  an 
ostrich,  rather  than  the  customary  white  billiard  ball. 
Over  his  ears  was  a  fringe  of  black  hair ;  so  that  it  was 
not  until  he  took  his  hat  from  off  his  head  that  any  por 
tion  of  its  baldness  was  disclosed  to  view ;  and,  when  he 
put  on  his  hat  again,  it  was  as  though  he  had  covered 
the  ostrich's  egg  with  a  chapeau  for  the  performance  of 
some  trick  of  jugglery.  A  smaller  fringe  of  black  hair, 
in  the  shape  of  whiskers,  was  carried  straight  down  his 
cheeks  and  continued  under  his  chin,  which  retreated 
sharply  from  his  mouth  and  nose.  This  was  unusually 
prominent;  and,  in  conjunction  with  the  facial  angle, 
greatly  helped  to  give  the  peculiar  raven-like  aspect  to 
his  face.  It  might  be  said  of  Dr.  Dustacre's  nose  and 
face,  as  Wordsworth  wrote  of  Paulinus :  — 

Black  hair,  and  vivid  eye,  and  meagre  cheek, 
His  prominent  feature  like  an  eagle's  beak  ; 
A  Man  whose  aspect  doth  at  once  appal 
And  strike  with  reverence. 

His  eyebrows  were  dark  and  shaggy:  his  eyes  bright 
and  piercing,  even  when  seen  through  the  gold-rimmed 
glasses  that  he  wore ;  and  his  face  was  spectral  and 
colourless.  He  was  dressed  in  an  entire  suit  of  black ; 
wore  a  starched  white  neckcloth,  and  carried  an  ebony 
cane  that  was  tipped  with  gold. 

Dr.  Dustacre  walked  up  to  the  Woodlands,  past  the 
tiny  lodge,  and  through  the  little,  well-timbered  park ; 


I2O 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


and  when  he  came  to  the  front  door  of  Mr.  Smalls'  large 
house,  there  was  the  footman  standing  on  the  steps, 
surveying  the  beauties  of  nature.  Hence  it  happened 
that  Dr.  Dustacre  had  no  occasion  to  ring  the  hall-bell. 


To  his  inquiry,  "Is  Mr.  Smalls  at  home?"  the  servant 
replied  that  his  master  and  young  master  had  driven 
over  to  the  Poynton  Station,  to  meet  a  gentleman 
who  was  expected  to  arrive  by  the  twelve-thirty-five 
train. 


AND    HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  121 

"Dear  me!"  exclaimed  the  Doctor;  "this  is  par 
ticularly  unfortunate;  for  I  am  the  gentleman  whom 
they  were  expecting  to  meet  there.  My  business  here 
is  of  a  very  urgent  nature,  and,  as  I  have  other  import 
ant  engagements  to  fulfil,  I  am  anxious  to  get  back  to 
the  train  with  as  little  loss  of  time  as  possible." 

"Would  you  oblige  me  with  your  name,  sir?"  said 
the  servant.  The  Doctor  handed  him  his  card.  "  Dr. 
Dustacre  is  the  name  of  the  gentleman. that  my  master 
has  gone  to  meet,"  said  the  servant. 

"  I  had  intended  to  have  gone  to  the  Poynton  Station," 
said  the  Doctor,  by  way  of  explanation ;  "  but,  at  the 
last  moment,  a  friend  told  me  that  I  should  not  be  able 
to  get  any  carriage  there ;  so,  I  got  out  at  the  Barham 
Station,  and  have  driven  over  from  there.  For  a  par 
ticular  reason,  I  have  left  the  car  at  the  turn  of  the  road 
a  short  distance  beyond  the  lodge.  I  have  to  see 
young  Mr.  Winstanley,  and  to  inquire  professionally 
into  his  case.  It  is  important  that  I  should  see  him  at 
once,  and  alone.  Is  he  in  the  house?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  he  is  in  the  study.  Shall  I  show  you  in 
to  him?"  asked  the  servant. 

"  No,"  replied  the  Doctor;  "  I  would  rather  go  in  by 
myself.  It  will  be  better  not  to  announce  me,  or  to 
give  my  name.  Which  is  the  study?  " 

The  servant  pointed  it  out.  Dr.  Dustacre  crossed  the 
hall,  opened  the  study  door,  shut  it  carefully  behind 
him,  made  a  bow  to  a  youthful-looking  gentleman  who 
was  seated  in  a  comfortable  chair  and  nodding  over  the 
"  Times,"  and,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  found  himself 
face  to  face  with  little  Mr.  Bouncer.  If  either  of  them 
had  gone  to  the  open  window  and  looked  out,  they 
might  have  discovered  young  Winstanley,  crouched 


122 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


behind  a  thick  laurel,  ready  prepared  to  lend  an  atten 
tive  ear  to  their  conversation. 

Dr.  Dustacre  gave  a  keen  look  through  his  gold 
mounted  spectacles,  and  made  a  rapid,  but  careful,  sur 
vey  of  Mr.  Bouncer's  face  and  expression.  It  was  such 


a  look  as  Van  Amburgh  may  have  bestowed  upon  the 
lions  when  he  leaped  into  their  den,  and  stood  among 
them  in  that  picturesque  dress  which,  at  the  great  Duke 
of  Wellington's  desire,  was  represented  in  a  famous 
picture  by  Sir  Edwin  Landseer.  But  the  celebrated 
lion-tamer  had  a  cast  in  his  eye,  which,  as  was  alleged, 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  123 

was  a  part  of  the  secret  of  his  success,  as  it  enabled  him 
to  gaze  upon  two  beasts  at  the  same  time.  Dr.  Dustacre 
had  no  such  obliquity  of  vision,  but  looked  straightly 
and  fixedly  at  the  object  before  him. 

Mr.  Bouncer  rose  from  his  easy-chair,  and  silently 
returned  the  silent  bow  of  the  other.  The  Doctor  took 
a  chair  and  brought  it  to  the  writing-table,  near  to  Mr. 
Bouncer,  all  the  while  making  an  eye-study  of  his 
appearance  and  manners.  It  was  such  a  skilled,  profes 
sional  study,  that  it  might  have  been  called  eye  art. 
Mr.  Bouncer  had  again  settled  himself  in  his  chair,  and 
began  to  experience  the  sort  of  sensation  which  a  bird 
is  supposed  to  feel  when  it  is  being  fascinated  by  a 
serpent. 

Thought  the  little  gentleman  to  himself,  "  This  is  a 
very  rummy-looking  cove  !  I  wonder  who  he  is,  and 
why  he  came  into  this  room,  without  being  shown  in  by 
the  servant.  I  don't  remember  hearing  the  front-door 
bell  ring;  but  I  half  suspect  that  I  was  having  forty 
winks.  What  a  peculiar-looking  old  gentleman !  who 
can  he  be?  By  his  togs  he  looks  like  a  parson;  white 
choker,  black  coat  and  sit-upons.  I  daresay  he  is  the 
rector  of  the  parish,  and  a  great  friend  of  the  Squire's. 
By  the  way,  I  remember  Smalls  telling  me  he  used  to 
read  with  the  rector  two  hours  a  day.  This  is  the  iden 
tical  individual,  no  doubt.  I  daresay  he  is  like  a  tame 
cat,  and  comes  in  and  out  as  he  likes.  What  a  skull  the 
old  bald-pate  has  got !  and  how  he  stares  at  me  !  '  He 
fix'd  me  with  his  glitt'ring  eye.'  '  He  came,  I  could  not 
move,  for  his  eye  was  upon  me.'  I  wonder,  by  the  way, 
why  coves  have  only  one  eye  in  poetry,  like  Polyphemus 
and  those  monoptical  parties.  This  old  fellow  has  two 
eyes  under  his  gig-lamps,  and  knows  how  to  use  them. 


124  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

I  wonder  when  the  parson's  going  to  open  his  lips  and 
begin  to  preach?  " 

It  was  at  this  point  in  Mr.  Bouncer's  reverie  that  Dr. 
Dustacre  cleared  his  throat,  opened  his  lips,  and  began 
to  speak;  while  young  Winstanley,  outside  the  window, 
listened  to  what  was  said. 


AND  HIS  FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN. 


125 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

LITTLE    MR.   BOUNCER  IS   STILL    MORE    SURPRISED  AT 
DR.   DUSTACRE. 

DINTING  with  his  gold- 
headed  ebony  cane  to  the 
copy  of  the  "  Times  "  over 
which  Mr.  Bouncer  had 
been  nodding,  Dr.  Dustacre 
said,  interrogatively, "  Fond 
of  reading?  " 

"  That  all  depends  upon 
the  sort  of  reading  that  I 
get  hold  of,"  replied  Mr. 
Bouncer,  as  he  thought  of 
the  leading  article  that  he 
had  just  been  dozing  over, 
when  the  sonorous  sen 
tences  on  the  political  crisis 
in  Moldavia  had  failed  to 
excite  or  amuse  him.  "  A 
good  murder  or  a  daring 
burglary  is  interesting,  so 
is  a  prize-fight,  for  the 
matter  of  that." 
"  Do  you  prefer  the  perusal  of  works  of  modern 

fiction   to   the  study  of  classical  'authors?  "  asked  Dr. 

Dustacre. 


126  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

"I  should  rather  think  I  did,"  answered  Mr.  Bouncer, 
heartily,  as  he  thought  to  himself —  This  old  bald-pate 
is  the  parson  of  the  parish  who  coached  Smalls.  I  hope 
he  's  not  going  to  put  me  through  an  examination,  and 
thinks  that,  as  I  'm  fresh  from  college,  I  ought  to  be  well 
up  in  the  classics. 

"  Yet  the  study  of  classical  authors  is  a  most  improv 
ing  and  healthy  pursuit,"  observed  the  Doctor,  who, 
from  the  sententiousness  of  his  remark  might  have  been 
Dr.  Johnson  himself. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that  —  at  least,  in  my  case," 
replied  Mr.  Bouncer.  "  Pickwick 's  more  in  my  line 
than  Plautus;  and  I  prefer  Bulwer  to  Virgil  any  day. 
But,  I  suppose  I  have  n't  the  brains  for  Greek  and 
Latin." 

"  Do  you  find  that  the  study  of  dead  languages  affects 
your  brain  in  any  particular  way?  "  asked  Dr.  Dustacre. 

"  Makes  it  like  pap !  "  replied  Mr.  Bouncer,  frankly, 
"  or  else  they  gave  me  too  much  pap  when  I  was  a  baby, 
and  softened  my  brains." 

"  You  were  not  here  when  you  were  a  baby,  I  think?  " 
inquired  the  Doctor. 

"  Oh  dear,  no ;  at  that  uninteresting  period  of  my 
existence  I  was  in  another  part  of  England,"  was  Mr. 
Bouncer's  reply. 

"  Though  you  have  been  here,  residing  in  this  house, 
many  years?  " 

"Oh,  no;  I  have  not." 

"  Not  for  the  last  two  years  ?  " 

"  Not  for  the  last  two  weeks." 

"  You  were  not  here,  for  example,  last  week?  "  asked 
Dr.  Dustacre,  continuing  his  examination  of  the  supposed 
Mr.  Winstanley,  while  the  real  Simon  Pure,  crouched 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT   GREEN.  I2/ 

behind  the  laurel  outside  the  open  window  of  the  study, 
listened  to  every  word  of  the  conversation. 

"  Most  decidedly  I  was  not  here  last  week,"  replied 
Mr.  Bouncer. 

"  Then  you  have  not  been  in  the  house  for  some  time 
past?" 

"  Never  set  foot  in  it  till  last  night !  "  said  Mr.  Bouncer, 
as  he  thought  —  This  old  bald-pate  is  a  very  queer  party  ; 
he  can't  be,  as  I  imagined,  the  parson  of  the  parish,  or 
he  would  not  ask  such  questions.  Perhaps  he  's  some 
parson  who  is  on  a  visit  to  the  Rectory. 

Dr.  Dustacre  nodded  his  head  in  a  Burleigh-like  way, 
as  though  his  examination  had  satisfactorily  determined 
one  point  in  the  case  on  which  his  professional  opinion 
had  been  requested.  "  It  is  as  Mr.  Smalls  wrote  to 
me,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  One  of  the  mental  delusions 
of  this  Mr.  Winstanley  is,  that  he  imagines  that  he  has 
not  been  at  the  Woodlands  for  many  years."  Dr.  Dust- 
acre  then,  as  sailors  say,  went  on  another  tack.  Mean 
while,  the  Simon  Pure,  who  was  crouched  behind  the 
laurel,  had  a  significant  smile  upon  his  face  as  he  atten 
tively  listened  to  the  conversation  in  the  study. 

"  What  a  nice  man  Mr.  Smalls  is  —  I  mean  the 
Squire !  "  said  the  Doctor. 

"  So  he  seems,"  replied  Mr.  Bouncer. 

"  You  must  be  very  much  attached  to  him?  "  pursued 
the  Doctor,  interrogatively. 

"  Me?  Why?"  asked  Mr.  Bouncer,  with  some  surprise. 

"  For  all  that  he  has  done  for  you,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  He  has  done  nothing  for  me,  that  I  am  aware  of," 
said  Mr.  Bouncer,  "  beyond  giving  me  a  good  dinner 
last  night  and  a  capital  glass  of  port,  and  allowing  his 
son  to  invite  me  here." 


128 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


Thought  the  Doctor — This  confirms  what  Mr.  Smalls 
told  me.  This  unfortunate  young  man  imagines  that  his 
uncle  has  done  nothing  for  him.  This  corroborates 
what  was  reported  to  me  concerning  the  second  point  in 


his  mental  delusions.  "  Let  me  see,"  he  added,  aloud, 
"  your  name  is  —  bless  me,  what  a  bad  memory  I  have  ; 
your  name  is  —  what  is  your  name?  " 

Thought  Mr.  Bouncer  —  He  '11  next  ask  me  who  gave 
me  that  name,  and  what  did  my  godfathers  and  god 
mothers  then  for  me.  "  I  might  reply,"  answered  Mr. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  129 

Bouncer,  "  if  I  wished  to  evade  the  question,  that  my 
name  is  Norval,  on  the  Grampian  hills ;  which,  perhaps, 
it  might  be,  if  I  had  ever  been  there.  But,  as  I  don't 
care  to  provide  myself  with  an  alias,  I  may  as  well  con 
fess  that  my  Christian  name  is  Henry,  and  my  surname 
is  Bouncer." 

"  You  think  it 's  Bouncer,  eh?  "  inquired  Dr.  Dustacre, 
looking  at  him  with  a  searching  gaze,  through  his  gold- 
mounted  spectacles,  and  tapping  his  chair  with  his 
gold-headed  ebony  cane. 

"Think?"  echoed  Mr.  Bouncer.  "Well!  I 've  been 
known  by  that  name  as  long  as  I  can  remember  any 
thing."  And  he  thought  to  himself —  Whatever  is  the 
old  bald-pate  driving  at?  he's  a  very  rummy  looking 
cove,  and  he  entered  the  room  very  mysteriously.  I 
hope  he  's  not  an  escaped  lunatic  !  if  so,  what  shall  I  do? 
he  's  between  me  and  the  door,  so  I  can't  get  away  in 
that  direction.  Here  's  the  window  open  behind  me ; 
perhaps  I  can  jump  through  that,  like  a  clown  in  a  pan 
tomime,  if  he  should  get  wild  and  attack  me.  He  's  got 
a  formidable-looking  stick;  and  I've  nothing  to  defend 
myself  with,  unless  it's  an  ivory  paper-knife.  He's 
evidently  very  eccentric ;  and  I  should  n't  wonder  at  his 
being  a  lunatic.  I  suppose  it  will  be  my  best  policy  to 
humour  him.  Yes;  I  '11  humour  him. 

Meanwhile,  Dr.  Dustacre  was  thinking  —  Mr.  Smalls 
was  quite  right.  It  is  another  evidence  of  mental  delu 
sion  on  the  part  of  this  unfortunate  young  man  that  he 
cannot  remember  his  own  name. 

And  so  the  conversation  went  on.  Dr.  Dustacre 
started  two  or  three  subjects ;  but,  to  Mr.  Bouncer,  they 
appeared  as  disconnected  as  though  they  were  consecu 
tive  readings  from  Johnson's  Dictionary,  or  the  medley 

9 


130  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

news  column  from  a  provincial  newspaper.  But  the 
conversation,  such  as  it  was,  was  sufficient  to  confirm 
the  two  speakers  in  the  opinions  that  they  had  mutually 
formed  of  each  other. 

Old  bald-pate,  thought  Mr.  Bouncer,  is  certainly  a 
most  eccentric  party,  both  in  his  looks  and  ways.  He 
has  evidently  got  a  tile  off.  By  which  phrase  the  little 
gentleman  meant  that  his  temporary  companion  was,  to 
a  certain  degree,  non  compos  mentis.  Though  Mr. 
Bouncer  would  have  been  greatly  astounded  could  he 
have  known  that  the  bald-headed  individual  with  a  skull 
like  the  egg  of  an  ostrich,  who  was  seated  before  him, 
had  arrived  at  a  like  conclusion  regarding  himself;  and 
he  would  have  been  even  more  surprised  if  he  had  been 
told  that  the  mysterious  visitor  to  the  Woodlands  was 
about  to  act  upon  that  conclusion. 

"  Perhaps  you  would  not  mind  walking  with  me  to  the 
gate?  "  asked  Dr.  Dustacre,  as  he  rose  from  his  seat,  and 
gave  evidence  that  he  had  brought  the  interview  to  an 
end,  and  was  about  to  quit  the  house,  and  imitate  the 
juggling  trick  of  covering  the  ostrich's  egg  with  his  hat. 

"  Oh  dear,  no  !  I  shall  be  grattered  and  flatified  — 
that  is  to  say,  flattered  and  gratified,"  replied  Mr. 
Bouncer.  And  he  thought  to  himself — It  will  be  quite 
as  well  for  me  to  see  old  bald-pate  off  the  premises.  If 
poor  Tom  Winstanley  should  meet  him,  and  get  into 
conversation  with  such  an  eccentricity,  it  might  make 
him  as  mad  as  a  hatter,  and  do  poor  Tom  a  great  deal 
of  harm.  So  it  will  be  best  for  me  to  take  charge  of 
bald-pate,  and  see  him  safe  to  the  Rectory,  or  wherever 
he  may  be  hanging  out. 

As  Dr.  Dustacre  and  Mr.  Bouncer  passed  through  the 
hall,  the  latter,  while  getting  his  hat,  might  have  been 


AND   HIS    FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  131 

observed  to  select  from  the  umbrella-stand  the  thickest 
walking-stick  that  was  in  Mr.  Smalls'  collection.  Armed 
with  this  cudgel,  he  walked  forth  boldly  with  his  com 
panion,  and  accompanied  him  down  the  drive  that  led 
from  the  house  to  the  lodge.  There  was  no  fear  of 
young  Winstanley  meeting  them;  though  he  curiously 
watched  their  movements  from  behind  a  safe  covert  of 
shrubs  and  trees. 


132 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER   IS   TAKEN   CAPTIVE   BY  DR. 
DUSTACRE. 

ATCHING  them  from  be 
hind  the  safe  concealment 
of  dense  laurels  and  tree- 
stems,  young  Winstanley 
saw  Dr.  Dustacre  and  little 
Mr.  Bouncer  walking  from 
the  house  down  the  car 
riage-drive  that  led  to  the 
lodge;  and  he  chuckled  to 
himself  at  the  thought  how 
very  much  those  two  per 
sons  were  deceived  with  each 
other.  They  had  turned 
their  backs  on  the  real  Si 
mon  Pure  and  were  the  mu 
tual  victims  of  a  mistake, 
which,  however  ludicrous  in 
its  elements,  was  becoming 
a  very  serious  matter  to  each  of 
them. 

Mr.  Bouncer  was  still  firm  to  his  purpose  of  keeping 
his  eccentric  friend  in  good  humour  until  he  had  seen 
him  safe  off  the  premises  or  housed  at  the  Rectory, 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT   GREEN.  133 

from  whence  he  thought  it  highly  probable  that  he 
had  come  to  call  at  the  Woodlands.  By  way,  there 
fore,  of  starting  a  conversation  that  would  be  agreeable 
to  the  gentleman  —  whom,  from  his  costume,  he  pre 
sumed  to  be  a  clergyman  —  he  asked  him  if  there  were 
many  fine  churches  in  that  neighbourhood? 

"  I  really  don't  know,"  replied  his  companion.  "You 
ought  to  be  better  acquainted  with  this  part  of  the 
country  than  I  am." 

"But  I  never  saw  it  till  yesterday;  and,  from  what 
you  say,  I  suppose  this  is  your  first  visit  to  these  parts?  " 
said  Mr.  Bouncer  in  his  turn  being  the  interrogator. 

"  To  this  particular  parish  it  is ;  though  I  know  other 
parts  of  the  county  at  no  great  distance  from  here,"  was 
the  answer. 

"Are  you  staying  at  the  Rectory?"  asked  Mr.  Boun 
cer,  boldly. 

"  No ;  why  do  you  ask?  " 

"  Curiosity,  I  suppose.     Excuse  my  impertinence." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  it  impertinent.  On  the  contrary, 
I  think  it  pertinent,"  said  Dr.  Dustacre  with  a  laugh. 
Though  he  thought  to  himself  —  This  poor  young  Win- 
stanley  is  very  shrewd ;  although  his  hallucination  as  to 
his  not  having  been  here  for  many  years  would  appear 
to  be  firmly  fixed  in  his  mind. 

At  the  same  moment  these  thoughts  were  chasing 
each  other  through  Mr.  Bouncer's  brain  —  I  hope  the 
old  bald-pate  is  not  going  to  cut  up  rough.  I  wonder 
where  he's  hanging  out?  Perhaps  he  's  a  parson,  from 
some  neighbouring  parish,  come  to  solicit  a  subscription 
from  the  Squire.  Or  he  may  be  a  deputation  from  some 
Parent  Society,  out  on  the  loose,  and  wanting  to  hold  a 
missionary  meeting,  or  something  of  that  sort.  Having 


134  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

this  impression  on  his  mind,  he  firmly  grasped  his  thick 
walking-stick  as  he  thought  —  I  must  humour  the  old 
bald-pate  and  keep  him  civil :  it  is  lucky  that  I  have 
taken  him  out  of  Winstanley's  way,  for  he  might  have 
alarmed  the  poor  fellow  and  done  mischief.  Mr.  Boun 
cer  said,  "  Are  you  fond  of  missionary  meetings,  sir?" 

Thought  the  Doctor  to  himself — How  his  mind  wan 
ders  !  I  must  humour  him  by  answering  his  questions. 
"  Well,  I  don't  profess  to  any  overweening  attachment 
for  them.  I  think  that  we  ought  to  be  able  to  do  with 
out  them;  but  I  suppose  they  are  necessary  in  our 
imperfect  state  of  existence." 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer  thought  to  himself — Sold  again! 
If  he's  a  parson,  he  's  not  a  deputation. 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  tiny  lodge.  Mr. 
Bouncer  held  open  the  drive-gate,  and  signified  by  his 
action  that  he  would  there  take  leave  of  his  companion ; 
who,  however,  said  to  him,  "  Do  you  mind  giving  me 
the  pleasure  of  your  company  just  a  little  way  along  the 
road?" 

Mr.  Bouncer  replied,  "  Certainly,  if  you  wish  it."  But 
he  thought — The  woman  at  the  lodge  would  not  be  of 
much  use,  except  for  screaming;  and  I  don't  know 
what  excuse  I  could  make  for  calling  her.  I  only  wish 
I'd  time  to  let  Huz  and  Buz  loose;  they  would  have 
been  some  protection  in  case  of  accident,  and  would 
have  worried  the  old  bald-pate's  pantaloons  if  he  took  it 
in  his  head  to  turn  obstreperous.  He 's  the  rummiest 
parson  that  I  've  met  for  many  a  day. 

So  Dr.  Dustacre  and  Mr.  Bouncer,  turning  their  backs 
on  the  tiny  lodge,  walked  along  the  road  by  the  skirts 
of  a  plantation  that  marked  the  boundary  of  Mr.  Smalls' 
picturesque  little  park.  In  the  plantation  was  a  thick 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN. 


135 


undergrowth  of  evergreens — laurel,  box,  and  berberis 
—  specially  planted  for  the  encouragement  of  the 
Squire's  pheasants;  and,  stealing  through  these  shrubs, 
young  Winstanley  might  have  been  seen  curiously 
watching  the  movements  of  Mr.  Bouncer  and  his  com 
panion,  while  the  dense  thicket  and  its  umbrage  prevented 
him  from  being  observed  from  the  road.  At  the  end 
of  the  plantation  the  road  from  the  lodge  came  at  right 
angles  into  another  road;  and,  when  the  two  temporary 
companions  had  turned  the  sharp  corner,  they  saw  a 
one-horse  car  pulled  up  by  the  side  of  the  road  with 
the  horse's  head  in  the  direction  that  led  to  Poynton 
and  Barham.  The  driver  was  in  his  place  on  the  box, 
and  a  commonly  dressed  and  powerfully  built  man  was 
standing  in  the  road,  waiting  by  the  side  of  the  car. 
The  road  was  much  shaded  by  some  tall  trees,  whose 
thick  foliage  made  a  screen  on  either  side ;  and  there 
was  no  farm-house  or  cottage  to  be  seen. 

"  This  is  my  conveyance,"  said  Dr.  Dustacre.  "  Per 
haps  you  '11  take  a  little  drive  with  me?  " 

"Well,  if  it's  the  same  to  you,  I'd  rather  not,"  re 
plied  Mr.  Bouncer.  "You  see  I  'm  expecting  my  friend 
and  pitcher — I  mean  my  friend  and  host — back  to 
luncheon." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  Doctor,  with  a  winning  smile,  bright 
as  his  own  gold-mounted  spectacles,  "I  am  sure  that 
Mr.  Smalls,  who  is  also  a  friend  of  mine,  will  readily  ex 
cuse  you,  especially  when  he  knows  that  you  are  in  my 
company.  So  pray  oblige  me  by  getting  into  this  car." 

But  little  Mr.  Bouncer  could  not  see  why  the  elder 
Mr.  Smalls  should  be  pleased  at  this  act  of  elopement 
from  the  luncheon  at  which  he  had  promised  to  be 
present;  nor  could  he  imagine  what  motive  should  con- 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

strain  the  mysterious  individual  in  clerical  dress,  and 
with  the  bald  head  and  hooked  nose  and  gold-rimmed 
spectacles,  to  desire  his  company.  .  And,  for  his  own 
part,  as  he  entertained  very  strong  suspicions  that,  as 
he  mentally  expressed  it —  The  old  bald-pate  had  a  tile 
off  or  a  screw  loose  somewhere  —  he  had  considerable 
scruples  for  not  desiring  to  take  a  country  drive  with 
him,  immured  in  the  narrowed  limits  of  a  car.  The 
presence  of  a  third  person  would  not  be  altogether  re 
assuring,  even  though  he  should  prove  to  be  a  keeper 
from  a  lunatic  asylum.  For  Mr.  Bouncer  thought  —  Is 
it  possible  that  this  old  bald-pate  had  got  away  from 
this  square-shouldered  resolute  looking  party?  If  so, 
perhaps  I  had  better  humour  him  a  little  to  prevent  an 
outbreak. 

These  thoughts  coursed  rapidly  through  Mr.  Boun 
cer's  mind  as  the  Doctor  said,  "  Pray  oblige  me  by 
accompanying  me  for  a  short  drive !  allow  me  to  help 
you  !  "  and,  taking  him  by  the  arm  and  using  some  little 
strength,  he  forced,  rather  than  guided,  Mr.  Bouncer  to 
the  car,  the  door  of  which  was  held  open  by  the  broad- 
shouldered  man.  Cabby,  on  the  box,  was  regarding 
the  scene  with  an  unconcealed  grin.  Young  Winstan- 
ley  was  also  looking  on  from  his  covert  of  shrubs  and 
trees,  with  a  cunning  smile  on  his  face. 

"After  you!  you  get  in  first!"  said  Mr.  Bouncer, 
taking  the  opportunity  to  tip  an  expressive  wink  to  the 
broad-shouldered  man,  as  though  to  say —  If  he  can  be 
got  safely  in,  then  you  can  see  to  him,  and  I  can  go 
about  my  business. 

"  Oh,  no!  "  said  the  Doctor  politely;  "  I  could  not 
think  of  it.  You  get  in  first,  and  I  will  follow  you." 

It  struck  Mr.  Bouncer  that  the  broad-shouldered  indi- 


AND    HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN. 


137 


vidual  had  neither  reciprocated  his  wink,  nor  made  any 
movement  towards  assisting  the  old  bald-pate  into  the 
car.  He  began  to  be  suspicious.  "  Now,  what  do  you 


want  me  to  be  up  to?"  he  added,  as  he  grasped  his 
stick;  "and  where  do  you  want  me  to  go,  and  why? 
I  'm  generally  game  for  anything,  from  pitch-and-toss  to 
manslaughter;  but  I  like  to  know  the  programme." 
"  It  is  a  pleasant  day  for  a  country  drive,"  said  the 


138  LITTLE  MR.   BOUNCER 

Doctor  in  his  blandest  tones;  "  and  I  only  want  you  to 
be  good  enough  to  take  an  agreeable  little  excursion 
with  me.  Pray  be  calm  !  " 

"  Calm !  "  echoed  Mr.  Bouncer.  "  I  'm  as  calm  as  a 
duck-pond.  It 's  you  that  are  putting  yourself  about. 
I  don't  want  to  take  a  drive,  because  I  Ve  other  fish  to 
fry ;  so  I  wish  you  good  morning." 

"Oh,  don't  go!  "  pleaded  the  Doctor,  but  in  a  very 
polite  way;  "  do  oblige  me  by  getting  into  the  car." 

"  Flatly,  I  won't!  "  said  Mr.  Bouncer;  and  he  meant 
what  he  said,  and  he  looked  as  though  he  meant  it. 
That  was  quite  enough  for  Dr.  Dustacre. 

"  Brand  !  "  said  the  Doctor  quietly  to  the  broad-shoul 
dered  man,  "  don't  use  more  force  than  is  necessary." 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer  could  never  exactly  tell  how  it  was 
done,  for  it  was  done  so  quickly  and  expertly ;  but,  by 
a  rapid  flank  movement,  just  as  Mr.  Bouncer  was  turn 
ing  away,  he  was  seized  from  behind  by  the  individual 
addressed  as  Brand,  who  held  him  by  his  arms  in  such  a 
way  that  the  little  gentleman  was  powerless,  either  to 
use  his  stick,  or  to  show  fight.  He  struggled  and 
kicked ;  but  it  was  all  in  vain ;  and,  in  another  moment, 
he  felt  himself  hoisted  into  the  car. 


AND    HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN. 


139 


CHAPTER    XX. 


LITTLE    MR.    BOUNCER    IS    GRATIFIED   TO    FIND   THAT 
DR.    DUSTACRE   HAS   MADE   A   SLIGHT   MISTAKE. 

TRUGGLING  and  kicking,  and  with 
his  hat  knocked  off,  little  Mr.  Boun 
cer,  uttering  a  few  powerful  Saxon 
expletives,  was  forced  into  the  car. 
By  compulsion  he  was  hoisted  there 
into  by  the  burly,  broad-shouldered 
individual  who  had  been  addressed 
by  the  name  of  Brand,  and  who 
quickly  followed  Mr.  Bouncer,  and 
took  a  seat  opposite  to  him.  The 
clerical-looking  gentleman,  with  the 
raven-beaked  nose  and  gold-mounted 
spectacles,  nimbly  jumped  in  after  them,  shut  to  the 
door,  popped  his  head  through  the  window,  cried  "  All 
right !  drive  on !  lose  no  time  !  "  and  then,  turning  to 
Mr.  Bouncer,  by  the  side  of  whom  he  had  seated  him 
self,  said,  in  the  most  affable  manner,  "  Excuse  my 
apparent  rudeness ;  but  I  am  so  very  anxious  to  have 
the  pleasure  of  your  company;  and  this  is  a  lovely  day 
for  a  drive.  How  beautiful  the  play  of  light  and  shade 
is  on  the  side  of  that  wood ! " 

But  Mr.  Bouncer  sulkily  replied,  "  Bother  the  play 
of  light  and    shade !     I    want    to     know    what 's    the 


140  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

meaning  of  all  this,  and  what  game  you  chaps  are 
up  to." 

"  Pray  don't  agitate  yourself,"  said  the  gentleman  in 
spectacles ;  "  it  is  only  a  drive  to  do  you  good." 

But  Mr.  Bouncer  could  not  see  the  transaction  in  this 
light,  and  did  not  approve  of  being  rapidly  whirled 
away,  a  captive  in  the  old  bald-pate's  car,  sitting  knee  to 
knee  with  a  burly  individual  who  appeared  to  be  pre 
pared  to  pounce  upon  him  if  he  gave  the  slightest 
evidence  of  attempting  resistance  or  escape.  What 
would  the  three  inmates  of  the  car  have  felt,  or  said,  had 
they  known  that  young  Mr.  Winstanley  had  watched  the 
whole  scene  of  Mr.  Bouncer's  abduction,  and,  from  his 
covert  of  shrubs  in  the  plantation,  was,  even  then,  chuck 
ling  with  joy  as  he  gazed  upon  the  lessening  shape  of 
the  four-wheeled  chaise  as  it  grew  smaller  in  the  dis 
tance,  until  a  bend  in  the  road  removed  it  out  of  sight ! 
When  he  had  witnessed  this,  young  Winstanley  executed 
a  species  of  wild  fandango,  as  a  pas  (fextase,  expressive 
of  his  unbounded  satisfaction  at  what  he  had  seen ;  and 
then  leaving  the  covert  of  the  box  and  berberis  and 
laurels  that  composed  the  undergrowth  of  the  plantation, 
calmed  his  outward  deportment  to  its  ordinary  seeming, 
and  returned,  placidly,  across  the  small  park  to  the 
Woodlands. 

When  he  got  there,  he  said  to  the  footman,  "  Has  the 
gentleman  gone?" 

"Dr.  Dustacre,  sir?" 

Young  Winstanley  nodded  an  affirmative. 

"Yes,  sir;  he  let  himself  out,  sir.  Leastways,  I  sup 
pose  Mr.  Bouncer  let  him  out;  for  I  saw  them  walking 
towards  the  lodge  together.  That  was  more  than  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  ago." 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  141 

"  Then  Mr.  Bouncer  is  not  in  the  house  now?  " 

"  No,  sir;  he  has  not  yet  returned." 

"  I  think  I  should  like  to  see  him  when  he  comes  in : 
I  shall  be  in  the  study.  Perhaps  you  will  send  him  to 
me?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Whereupon  young  Winstanley,  who  had  looked  quite 
grave  during  the  brief  colloquy,  walked  into  the  study, 
shut  the  door,  and  then,  throwing  himself  into  the  easy 
chair  in  which  Mr.  Bouncer  had  sat  during  his  interview 
with  Dr.  Dustacre,  burst  into  laughter,  which  was  none 
the  less  hearty  because  it  was  noiseless. 

While  Simon  Pure  was  thus  enjoying  his  brief  time  of 
victory,  his  innocent  victim  was  being  whirled  on  in  the 
four-wheeled  chaise  to  the  Barham  Station,  sitting  in 
uncomfortable  proximity  to  the  burly,  broad-shouldered 
individual  who  had  hoisted  him,  by  main  force,  into  the 
vehicle.  When  Mr.  Bouncer  was  enabled  to  look  at  this 
person  more  closely,  it  struck  him  that,  both  in  appear 
ance  and  costume,  he  was  very  like  a  bailiff.  Now,  the 
only  bailiff  with  whom  the  little  gentleman  had  any  sort 
of  an  acquaintance,  was  Dibbs,  his  own  farm-bailiff  in 
Herefordshire.  But  Uibbs,  although  he  was  burly,  and 
had  broad  shoulders,  conveyed  to  the  spectator's  mind 
a  very  different  impression  to  that  left  upon  it  by  a  sur 
vey  of  the  individual  who  was  now  Mr.  Bouncer's  vis-a 
vis.  This  person  seemed  to  belong  to  the  class  of 
obnoxious  people  who  tap  impecunious  gentlemen  on 
their  shoulders,  and  show  them  slips  of  paper  in  which 
the  name  of  her  Majesty  is  brought  forward  in  an 
unpleasant  manner.  Mr.  Bouncer  had  a  general  idea  of 
this  particular  kind  of  bailiff,  whose  official  duty  it  is  to 
arrest  debtors ;  but,  happily,  he  had  not  hitherto  formed 


142  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

their  acquaintance.  Perhaps  that  uncomfortable  expe 
rience  (so  it  struck  him)  was  now  to  be  his. 

It  is  said  that  drowning  men  can  review  the  deeds  of 
a  lifetime  in  a  minute,  and  that,  in  a  few  moments  of 
acute  danger,  the  actions  of  many  years  pass  swiftly 
through  the  brain,  as  though  made  visible  in  a  rapidly 
rolled  out  panorama.  Certainly  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  in 
less  time  than  it  would  have  taken  to  utter  the  words, 
thought  to  himself — or,  as  he  phrased  it,  "  deeply  pon 
dering,  like  those  old  classical  Greek  parties,"  —  that 
certain  events  in  his  college  career  mjght  be  turned 
against  him  in  an  unpleasant  manner.  Glancing  men 
tally  at  these,  as  he  looked  into  the  face  of  the  burly, 
broad-shouldered  individual,  he  said  to  himself — I 
know  that  I  have  a  great  amount  of  ticks  —  a  fearful  lot 
I  'm  afraid ;  but  I  've  never  been  pressed  for  them,  and  I 
had  no  fear  of  running  a  horrid  mucker.  Yet  I  seem  to 
be  in  Queer  Street.  Is  this  old  bald-pate  some  species 
of  attorney?  They  often  wear  black  togs  and  white 
chokers.  If  so,  he  has  got  his  bailiff  in  attendance,  and 
has,  perhaps,  come  to  arrest  me,  and  carry  me  off  to  the 
limbo  of  a  debtor's  prison.  If  that's  their  game, 
although  they  are  two  to  one,  I  must  show  fight,  and 
demand  an  explanation.  I  am  not  going  to  be  pulled 
up  without  a  struggle. 

These  thoughts  rapidly  coursed  through  Mr.  Bouncer's 
brain ;  and,  acting  upon  the  idea  that  they  conveyed  to 
him,  that  he  was  being  arrested  for  unpaid  debts,  and 
was  being  clandestinely  conveyed  to  a  sponging-house, 
of  which  his  two  companions  were,  respectively,  the 
proprietor  and  gaoler,  he  turned  to  the  bald-pated  gen 
tleman,  and  asked,  "  Do  I  owe  you  any  money?  " 

"  Owe  me  money?"  repeated  Dr.  Dustacre. 


AND    HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  143 

"Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Bouncer;  "owe  money.  You 
know  what  owing  money  means,  don't  you  ?  Have  you 
any  ticks  in  my  name ;  because,  if  so,  you  had  better 
say  so  at  once.  I  can  refer  you  to  Stump  and  Rowdy, 
my  bankers ;  and,  I  daresay,  they  '11  soon  make  it  all 
square  with  you." 

Thought  the  Doctor  —  Poor  young  man  !  his  head 
wanders  sadly !  But  he  replied,  "  Pray  do  not  agitate 
yourself,  my  dear  young  friend." 

"  Oh,"  said  Mr.  Bouncer,  with  scorn,  "  you  need  n't 
come  the  dear  young  friend  dodge  with  me  !  I  daresay 
you  get  your  fifty  per  cent. ;  and,  no  doubt,  you  pro 
pose  to  take  half  of  it  out  in  bad  pictures  and  worse 
claret !  If  you  want  me  to  fork  out  for  anything  that 
you  've  got  against  me,  I  daresay  Stump  and  Rowdy 
can  find  the  cash,  without  my  having  to  go  to  the  Jews 
for  it."  Little  Mr.  Bouncer  put  in  this  home-thrust, 
because,  in  connection  with  the  ideas  to  which  he 
was  giving  expression,  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that 
his  unknown  bald-pated  companion,  with  the  very 
prominent  nose,  had  something  of  the  Hebrew  in  his 
countenance. 

Dr.  Dustacre  was  about  to  reply,  as  best  he  might,  to 
Mr.  Bouncer's  observation,  when  there  clattered  past 
them  a  mail-phaeton  and  pair,  driven  by  a  young  gentle 
man,  beside  whom  an  older  gentleman  was  seated.  Mr. 
Bouncer  spied  them  at  once,  and  quickly  thrusting  his 
head  out  of  the  window,  before  the  broad-shouldered 
man  could  prevent  the  act,  shouted,  lustily,  "  Hoi ! 
Smalls  !  stop  !  pull  up  !  Bouncer !  prisoner !  "  He  was 
unable  to  say  more  that  was  audible  to  the  occupants  of 
the  mail-phaeton,  as  the  burly  individual  who  had  been 
addressed  as  Brand  forcibly  pulled  him  back  to  his 
seat. 


144 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


But  both  the  Mr.  Smalls  had  recognized  his  voice, 
and  the  mail-phaeton  had  been  at  once  pulled  up  ;  while 
Mr.  Smalls,  in  his  turn,  stood  up,  and  shouted  to  the 
cab-driver,  "  Stop  !  there  is  some  mistake  !  " 


At  the  same  moment,  Dr.  Dustacre  had  put  his  head 
out  of  the  window  of  the  chaise,  and,  with  his  gold- 
headed  ebony  cane,  had  tapped  the  driver  on  his 
arm,  and  told  him  to  pull  up.  "I  fear,"  said  the  Doc 
tor,  turning  to  Mr.  Bouncer,  "  that  there  is  a  slight 
mistake." 


AND  HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  145 

"  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  of  it,  old  cock,"  re 
plied  the  little  gentleman. 

As  soon  as  Dr.  Dustacre  had  arrived  at  the  conclusion 
that  there  must  be  a  slight  mistake,  the  end  had  virtually 
arrived  of  what  Peter  Quince  would  have  called  "  the 
most  lamentable  comedy,"  or  of  what  old  Polonius 
would  have  termed  the  "  tragical-comical "  piece,  that 
had  been  unconsciously  enacted,  with  little  Mr.  Bouncer 
and  the  Doctor  for  the  two  chief  performers.  Mr. 
Smalls  was  the  dens  ex  mac  hind  ^  whose  arrival  on  the 
scene  released  the  hero  of  the  piece  from  the  predica 
ment  in  which  he  had  so  unexpectedly  been  placed,  and 
the  denouement  had  now  been  reached  when  the  prin 
cipal  characters  must  say  a  few  words  before  they  are 
hidden  by  the  fall  of  the  curtain. 

The  younger  Mr.  Smalls  had  pulled  up,  wheeled  round 
his  pair  of  horses,  and  reined  them  in  by  the  side  of  the 
chaise.  He  was  the  first  to  speak,  and  his  words  broke 
the  spell  that  had  held  Dr.  Dustacre  enthralled. 
"  Hallo,  Bouncer !  who'd  have  thought  of  seeing  you? 
Where  are  you  off  to?" 

"  That 's  just  what  I  want  to  know !  These  two  people 
seem  to  have  taken  a  fancy  to  me.  Whether  it 's  kid 
napping  or  imprisonment  I  shall  be  glad  to  be  told." 

While  these  words  were  being  uttered  by  little  Mr. 
Bouncer,  whose  head  appeared  at  that  window  of  the 
chaise  which  was  nearest  to  the  mail-phaeton,  Dr.  Dust- 
acre  had  let  himself  out  at  the  opposite  door,  and  had 
gone  round  to  the  elder  Mr.  Smalls,  with  whom  he  ex 
changed  a  few  words  that  were  abundantly  sufficient  to 
clear  up  the  mistake  under  which  he  lay.  He  advanced 
to  the  side  of  the  chaise  at  which  Mr.  Bouncer's  head 
appeared,  made  the  little  gentleman  a  most  profound 

10 


146  AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN. 

/ 

bow,  opened  the  chaise  door  for  him  to  step  out,  and 
said,  "  Mr.  Bouncer,  I  ought  to  have  believed  you  when 
you  told  me  your  name ;  but  I  construed  your  words  to 
mean  what,  in  vulgar  parlance,  is  called  '  a  bouncer;  ' 
and  I  thought  that  you  were  purposely  deceiving  me. 
I  owe  you  more  apologies  than  I  can  express,  and  I 
know  not  how  sufficiently  to  ask  your  pardon.  Through 
a  series  of  misconceptions,  I  arrived  at  the  conclusion 
that  you  were  the  young  Mr.  Winstanley  whom  Mr. 
Smalls  is  entrusting,  for  a  time,  to  my  care  as  a  patient; 
and,  in  point  of  fact,  I  was  escorting  you  to  my  house 
for  that  purpose.  I  beg  you  ten  thousand  pardons  for 
the  mistake  I  have  so  stupidly  made,  and  also  for  any 
inconvenience  to  which  I  may  have  put  you.  Any 
reparation  that  I  can  make,  or  any  apology  that  you 
think  fit  to  require,  shall  be  most  cheerfully  proffered 
to  you." 

Little  Mr.  Bouncer  cut  short  the  Doctor's  speech  by 
laughter  that  could  not  be  controlled.  He  was  not  only 
the  essence  of  good-nature,  but  was  also  keenly  alive  to 
a  joke ;  and  the  absurdity  of  the  scene  through  which 
he  had  passed  was  too  much  for  his  feelings,  as  he 
thought  how  he  and  the  Doctor  had  been  mutually  de 
ceived.  The  sight  of  the  Doctor  standing  bowing  to 
him  and  revealing  glimpses  of  his  bald  ostrich-egg- 
looking  head,  and  then  covering  it  up  again  with  his 
hat,  as  though  he  were  performing  a  juggling  trick, 
moved  Mr.  Bouncer's  risible  faculties.  "  It 's  as  good  as 
a  play,"  he  managed  to  say,  between  his  bursts  of  laugh 
ter  ;  "  the  richest  thing  I  Ve  known  for  a  long  time ! 
Forgive  you?  Of  course  I  do,  sir!  You've  got  the 
worst  of  the  joke,  I  think ;  for  you  Ve  had  all  your 
trouble  for  nothing.  I  'm  quite  right,  and  have  no  need 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  147 

to  be  your  patient.  Though,  perhaps,  I  'm  not  quite  as 
wise  as  a  judge,  yet  I  'm  thankful  to  say  that  I  've  my 
wits  about  me,  and  have  not  got  a  tile  off;  or,  as  they 
say  down  in  my  part  of  the  country  —  I  've  got  all  my 
buttons  on,  and  they  're  all  shanked." 

Mr.  Bouncer's  laughter  was  infectious.  Mr.  Smalls 
and  his  son  joined  in  it;  the  cabman  grinned;  the 
broad-shouldered  Brand  chuckled ;  and  even  the  solemn 
bird-like  face  of  Dr.  Dustacre  was  transiently  lit  up  by  a 
wan  smile.  He  murmured  profuse  thanks,  and  then 
conferred  with  the  Squire.  His  going  on  to  Barham  to 
meet  the  train  by  which  he  had  desired  to  return,  was 
now  out  of  the  question.  He  must  go  back  to  the 
Woodlands  and  there  see  the  real  Simon  Pure;  and,  if 
it  should  be  found  needful,  take  him  to  Barham  by  a 
later  train.  This  plan  was,  therefore,  adopted.  The 
broad-shouldered  Brand  mounted  the  driving-seat  of  the 
chaise,  into  which  the  Squire  and  Dr.  Dustacre  entered, 
in  order  to  talk  over  young  Winstanley's  case;  while 
little  Mr.  Bouncer  and  his  friend  Mr.  Smalls  drove  back 
in  the  mail-phaeton,  Mr.  Bouncer  giving  his  friend  a 
graphic  description  of  the  scene  that  had  occurred,  and 
the  impressions  he  had  received  during  his  interview 
and  walk  and  drive  with  •"  the  old  bald-pate."  "I 
think,"  added  Mr.  Bouncer,  "  that  he  began  to  be  afraid 
I  should  pull  him  up  for  assault  and  battery.  If  so,  the 
old  cove  has  had  a  greater  fright  from  me  than  I  had 
from  him.  So,  it 's  about  square  between  us." 

Luncheon  followed  their  arrival  at  the  Woodlands, 
and  the  Squire  contrived  that  his  nephew,  Tom  Win- 
stanley,  should  not  escape  from  an  interview  with  the 
Doctor.  The  result  of  that  interview  was,  that  it  was 
deemed  expedient  to  place  the  Squire's  nephew,  for  a 


148  LITTLE   MR.    BOUNCER 

period,  under  the  Doctor's  care;  and,  by  four  o'clock, 
the  chaise  was  again  at  the  door,  and  VVinstanley  was 
the  companion  of  Dr.  Dustacre  and  Brand,  to  meet  the 
five  o'clock  train  at  Barham.  He  went  quite  willingly; 
and,  as  we  shall  not  again  meet  with  him  in  this  history, 
it  may  here  be  said,  that,  under  the  Doctor's  skilful  care 
and  judicious  treatment,  he  returned  to  the  Woodlands, 
perfectly  restored  to  health,  in  time  to  see  his  cousin  be 
fore  he  went  back  to  Oxford  at  the  end  of  the  Long 
Vacation. 

The  Squire  was  very  pleased  with  Mr.  Bouncer.  As 
they  sat  together,  after  dinner,  he  said,  "  You  let  the 
Doctor  off  lightly.  You  might,  as  you  say,  have  had 
him  up  for  assault  and  battery ;  though  it  would  have 
been  rather  awkward  for  me,  if  you  had  asked  me,  as  a 
magistrate,  to  grant  the  warrant." 

"  I  '11  warrant  you  would  n't  have  granted  it,  if  I  had 
asked  for  it,"  said  Mr.  Bouncer. 

So  this  episode  in  Mr.  Bouncer's  life  ended  with  a 
laugh,  and  was  treated  as  a  joke. 


AND   HIS    FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN. 


149 


CHAPTER   XXI. 


LITTLE   MR.    BOUNCER  JOINS   IN  A  VERY   PECULIAR 
PIC-NIC. 

'AKING  up  the  next  morn 
ing,  and  reviewing  the  events 
of  the  preceding  day,  little 
Mr.  Bouncer  was  gratified  to 
find  that  the  bright  June  sun 
was  shining  down  upon  him 
at  the  Woodlands,  and  was 
not  streaming  into  a  bed 
room  occupied  by  him  in 
Dr.  Dustacre's  house.  Dur 
ing  the  day,  he  and  his  friend  Mr.  Smalls  had  a  gallop 
over  the  Squire's  estate,  accompanied  by  Huz  and  Buz, 
who  enjoyed  themselves  with  a  famous  rat-hunt  in  the 
farmyard  of  one  of  the  Squire's  tenants,  where  Mr. 
Smalls  and  Mr.  Bouncer  put  up  their  horses,  stopped  to 
have  a  glass  of  ale  and  a  smoke,  and  to  make  a  critical 
survey  of  certain  fat  oxen  and  pigs  that  were  expected 
to  cover  themselves  with  glory  and  prize  medals  at  the 
next  meeting  of  the  County  Agricultural  Society.  Then 
they  cantered  back  again  to  the  Woodlands,  across 
fields  and  through  woods  and  plantations,  where  Huz 
and  Buz  were  temporarily  demoralised  by  the  sudden 
up-springing  of  hares  and  the  scuttling  of  rabbits  in  and 


150  LITTLE  MR.   BOUNCER 

out  of  their  holes.  The  rector  of  the  parish  dined  at 
the  Woodlands  that  evening,  and  little  thought  how  he 
had  been  taken  by  Mr.  Bouncer  for  Dr.  Dustacre. 

From  that  gentleman  there  arrived,  on  the  following 
morning,  a  most  elaborate  letter  of  mingled  apologies 
and  thanks,  addressed  to  Mr.  Bouncer;  and  also  another 
letter  to  the  Squire,  saying  that  Mr.  Winstanley  had 
accompanied  him  in  a  quiet  way,  and  seemed  happy  and 
contented  in  his  temporary  home.  He  was  commis 
sioned,  he  added,  by  his  friend  Dr.  Plimmer  (who  was 
his  successor  at  the  County  Lunatic  Asylum,  and  was 
well  known  to  Mr.  Smalls),  to  invite  the  party  from  the 
Woodlands  to  the  first  annual  pic-nic  for  the  season  to 
be  given  to  the  patients  of  the  Asylum,  on  the  Tuesday 
in  the  ensuing  week,  at  Firs  Hill,  a  spot  about  seven 
miles  distant  from  the  Woodlands.  Dr.  Dustacre  ex 
pressed  a  hope  that,  if  Mr.  Bouncer  had  not  then  left,  he 
would  also  join  the  party,  and  thus  permit  Dr.  Dustacre 
to  have  the  pleasure  of  renewing  an  acquaintance  so 
singularly  and  inauspiciously  commenced. 

Said  the  Squire  to  his  son's  friend,  "  I  hope  you  will 
go  with  us.  Such  a  pic-nic  will  be  a  novel  scene  to  you, 
and  also  an  interesting  one.  I,  as  a  visitor  to  the  asylum, 
have  attended  more  than  one  of  their  pic-nics,  and  also 
their  Christmas  gatherings,  balls,  and  theatricals.  Of 
course,  only  such  patients  are  allowed  to  take  part  in 
the  pic-nics  who  are  sufficiently  well  to  do  so ;  and  Dr. 
Plimmer  is  as  careful  and  judicious  on  this  point  as  was 
Dr.  Dustacre,  who  originated  these  entertainments  at 
our  asylum.  Several  visitors  are  always  invited  to  be 
present  at  these  pic-nics,  and  they  freely  join  in  the 
dances  and  amusements.  This  helps  to  give  a  social 
character  to  the  gathering,  that  appears  to  exercise  a 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  151 

salutary  influence  on  the  afflicted  inmates  of  the  institu 
tion,  whose  unvarying  demeanour  on  such  occasions  is  ? 
sufficient  evidence  of  the  beneficial  results  that  have 
been  accomplished  in  laying  aside  the  terrors  of  chains, 
and  whips,  and  darkened  cells,  for  cheerful  rooms,  kind 
words,  and  humane  treatment.  The  patients  always 
seem  glad  for  lady  and  gentleman  friends  to  join  their 
pic-nics,  and  I  think  you  would  be  pleased  to  go  with  us 
on  Tuesday.  It  will  be  a  novelty  for  you,  if  nothing 
more." 

As  Mr.  Bouncer  had  promised  to  stay  at  the  Wood 
lands  beyond  the  day  mentioned,  he,  together  with  his 
host  and  friend,  accepted  Dr.  Dustacre's  invitation ;  and, 
when  the  Tuesday  came,  they  drove  over  to  the  spot 
appointed  for  the  rendezvous. 

Firs  Hill  —  or,  as  it  was  sometimes  written,  Furze 
Hill — might  have  received  its  etymology  either  from 
its  firs  or  furze;  the  furze  spreading  in  golden  patches 
over  many  portions  of  the  slope  of  the  hill,  and  a  small 
.plantation  of  Scotch  firs  crowning  its  summit.  When 
the  trio  from  the  Woodlands  reached  the  spot,  soon 
after  noon,  the  pic-nic  party  had  already  arrived  from 
the  asylum,  which  was  five  miles  distant  in  an  opposite 
direction.  They  had  come  in  carriages,  and  waggons, 
and  a  break ;  and,  of  the  patients,  there  were  about  forty 
females  and  twenty  males,  with  the  matron  and  steward, 
and  a  staff  of  nurses  and  attendants.  Dr.  Dustacre  and 
Dr.  Plimmer  were  with  them,  with  a  few  ladies  and  gen 
tlemen  who  had  received  special  invitations  to  be  present. 
The  weather  was  all  that  could  be  wished  for  such  an 
occasion,  and  the  party  appeared  to  be  a  very  happy 
one,  the  patients  enjoying  themselves  in  an  orderly  way. 
Luncheon  had  been  laid  out  in  al  fresco  style,  upon  the 


152  LITTLE   MR    BOUNCER 

grass,  within  the  shade  of  the  group  of  Scotch  firs ;  and, 
after  luncheon,  the  party  dispersed,  and  wandered  over 
the  hill-sides  and  the  neighbouring  meadows,  enjoy 
ing  the  beautiful  prospect,  under  careful,  though  not 
obtrusive,  surveillance. 

The  spot  had  been  admirably  chosen  for  the  purpose. 
At  the  base  of  the  hill  was  a  narrow,  willow-girted  river, 
winding  its  devious  course  amid  rich  pastures,  in  some 
of  which  the  mowers  were  at  work  sweeping  down  the 
swathes  of  long  grass,  or  sharpening  their  scythes,  with  a 
pleasant  tinkling  sound  that  was  quite  audible  to  the 
pic-nic  people  on  the  hill.  A  little  way  off  was  a  stately 
mansion,  of  which  a  bird's-eye  view  was  seen  from  Firs 
Hill,  with  its  park  and  mile-long  avenue  of  elms ;  then 
came  undulating  ground,  with  hanging  coppices  and  a 
long  stretch  of  well-wooded  landscape,  over  which  shot 
up  the  spires  and  towers  of  the  county  town.  In  the 
other  direction  was  a  noble  range  of  hills,  of  which  Firs 
Hill  was  one  of  many  spurs,  with  a  valley  dotted  with 
farmsteads  and  hamlets,  and  traversed  at  one  point  by  a* 
lengthy  railway  viaduct.  Just  below  the  hill  was  an  old 
and  well-cared-for  church,  with  its  trimly-kept  church 
yard  screened  by  a  row  of  chestnuts  and  limes,  whose 
bright  foliage  contrasted  with  the  dark  solemnity  of 
three  ancient  yew  trees.  A  landscape  such  as  this, 
bathed  in  the  glories  of  one  of  the  brightest  and  latest 
days  of  sunny  June,  could  not  fail  to  awaken  pleasurable 
feelings  in  the  breasts  of  those  whose  faculties,  though 
obscured  on  certain  points,  seemed  to  be  more  keenly 
susceptible  of  the  delights  of  sight  and  sound. 

Many  of  the  patients  had  wandered  down  the  hill  to 
the  churchyard,  where  the  rector,  who  was  among  Dr. 
Plimmer's  visitors,  showed  them  the  old  cross,  and  a 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  153 

curiously  carved  Norman  doorway,  and  took  them  over 
the  church,  wherein  were  many  stately  monuments  of 
members  of  the  family  who  had  lived  at  the  mansion 
hard  by.  Mr.  Bouncer,  to  whom  Dr.  Dustacre  was 
making  himself  very  agreeable,  had  joined  this  party, 
and  was  requested  by  one  of  the  female  patients  to  show 
her  the  tomb  of  Abel.  In  answer  to  an  expressive  look 
of  the  Doctor's,  Mr.  Bouncer  pointed  out  a  small  tomb 
stone  in  a  corner  of  the  south  aisle ;  with  which  informa 
tion  the  patient  appeared  perfectly  satisfied,  merely 
saying,  "  Poor  Abel !  he  was  a  keeper  of  sheep.  My 
father  was  a  shepherd ;  but  he  kept  out  of  wicked  Cain's 
way."  One  of  the  male  patients  appeared  to  be  quite 
an  archaeologist,  and  gave  a  very  correct  description 
both  of  the  church  and  the  dates  of  the  various  styles  in 
which  it  was  built.  "  I  perfectly  remember,"  he  said  to 
Dr.  Dustacre,  "  that  Early  English  capital  being  carved." 
The  Doctor  quietly  explained  to  Mr.  Bouncer  that  this 
patient's  fancy  was  that  he  was  a  son  of  Methusaleh,  and 
that  he  had  already  lived  through  a  thousand  years. 
Another  patient,  who  had  appeared  to  be  perfectly 
rational  while  walking  through  the  church,  became  some-, 
what  excited,  as  they  returned  to  the  hill,  at  hearing 
some  one  speak  of  a  field  of  turnips  near  to  which  they 
passed.  It  appeared  that  he  was  under  the  delusion 
that  his  head  was  a  turnip,  and  that  it  would,  some  day, 
be  appropriated  for  culinary  purposes.  But  the  peculiar 
fancies  of  many  of  the  patients  were  not  evidenced 
throughout  the  day. 

When  they  had  returned  to  the  summit  of  Firs  Hill, 
the  brass  band  of  the  institution  began  to  play  a  lively 
air.  This  band  was  not  only  a  significant  feature  in  the 
government  of  a  lunatic  asylum  conducted  on  humane 


154 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


and  enlightened  principles,  but  it  was  also  an  evidence 
of  what  might  be  done  by  perseverance  and  instruction. 
It  was  composed  of  the  warders  of  the  institution,  who, 
notwithstanding  that  their  hours  of  practice  were  neces 
sarily  limited,  had,  under  the  judicious  tuition  of  their 
bandmaster,  become  most  efficient  performers.  The 
band  played  at  the  Asylum  on  certain  evenings  in  each 
week ;  and,  on  Friday  evenings,  the  patients  had  a  dance. 
Dr.  Plimmer  assured  Mr.  Smalls  that  the  introduction  of 
music  and  dancing  into  the  institution  had  been  marked 
with  the  most  beneficial  results.  The  drummer  was  one 
of  the  patients ;  while  another  stood  near,  and  with  per 
fect  gravity,  held  his  hands  up  to  his  face,  and,  with 
voice  and  action,  imitated  the  sound  and  playing  of  a 
trumpet. 

"  He  is  one  of  our  most  harmless  and  quiet  people," 
said  Dr.  Plimmer;  "but,  one  of  his  notions  is,  that  his 
nose  is  a  trumpet." 

"  It  is  to  be  feared,"  observed  the  Squire,  "  that  many 
of  those  who  are  accounted  sane,  while  they  certainly 
blow  their  own  noses,  yet  do  not  blow  their  own  trumpet 
in  such  a  harmless  fashion." 

The  band  struck  up  a  country  dance ;  and,  to  the  lively 
measure  of  its  music,  the  majority  of  the  patients  were 
soon  tripping,  their  nurses  and  attendants  mixing  with 
them.  The  females  appeared  to  prefer  dancing  with 
each  other ;  and  so,  for  the  matter  of  that,  did  the  males, 
unless  they  danced  by  themselves,  as  some  eccentric 
persons  preferred  to  do.  So  much  had  the  pleasure  of 
the  day  been  anticipated,  said  Dr.  Plimmer,  that  the 
patients  had  devoted  the  previous  evening  to  unceasing 
"  ball  practice  "  and  the  preparation  of  polkas  for  the 
next  day's  performance ;  and  they  certainly  proved 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  155 

themselves  to  be  as  admirably  proficient  in  the  mazy 
steps  as  if  they  had  studied  under  a  Coulon  or  a 
D'Egville. 

Mr.  Bouncer  had  particularly  noticed  one  female 
patient,  who  was  past  middle  age,  and  whose  dress, 
although  much  faded  and  worn,  betokened,  together 
with  her  manner  and  appearance,  that  she  had  once 
moved  in  a  class  of  society  superior  to  that  of  the  gener 
ality  of  her  companions.  At  luncheon,  she  sat  apart 
from  them,  by  the  side  of  the  matron;  and,  when  the 
dancing  began,  she  withdrew  to  a  lower  part  of  the  hill, 
where,  turning  her  back  on  the  gaiety,  she  sat  down  on 
the  grassy  slope,  and,  screening  herself  from  the  sun 
with  a  large,  old-fashioned  parasol,  looked  sadly  over 
the  landscape  spread  beneath  her.  Mr.  Bouncer  pointed 
her  out  to  Dr.  Dustacre,  and  asked  who  she  was. 

"  She  is  a  widow;  Mrs.  Flabby  by  name,"  replied  the 
Doctor.  "  She  came  to  the  asylum  some  years  ago, 
when  I  was  in  charge  of  it.  She  has  seen  better  days, 
and  been  in  a  superior  position ;  but  a  series  of  reverses 
that  befel  her  family  and  fortune  unsettled  her  reason. 
I  fancy  that  she  had  no  great  strength  of  mind,  even  in 
her  best  and  earliest  days  ;  but  she  is  perfectly  quiet  and 
calm,  and  has  never  exhibited  the  least  violence.  She 
can  be  controlled  by  a  word,  or  even  by  a  threat  to 
deprive  her  of  her  parasol ;  and,  as  you  may  have 
noticed,  she  keeps  up  her  dignity,  and  does  not  mix 
much  with  her  companions,  although  she  is  always 
polite  to  them.  She  usually  sits  apart,  and  rarely  con 
verses,  except  with  the  matron  or  nurses,  or  with  the 
medical  staff." 

"  I  don't  like  to  see  her  moping  alone,  and  not  enjoying 
herself  like  the  others,"  said  Mr.  Bouncer.  "  Would 


156  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

there  be  any  impropriety  in  my  going  and  talking  with 
her  a  little?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Dr.  Dustacre.  "  It  would  be 
very  kind  of  you.  She  is  always  pleased  when  what 
she  calls  a  real  gentleman  or  lady  will  converse  with 
her.  She  accepts  the  attention  as  a  recognition  of  her 
former  social  position.  Of  course  you  must  be  pre 
pared  to  hear  her  talk  a  great  deal  of  unconnected 
nonsense." 

"  Oh,  of  course  !  Perhaps  I  shall  enjoy  her  conver 
sation  more  than  if  she  were  a  thoroughgoing  blue 
stocking,  who  could  talk  like  a  dictionary  on  all  sorts 
of  subjects,  from  prae-Adamite  formations  to  Shakspeare 
and  the  musical  glasses." 

So  little  Mr.  Bouncer  went  down  the  hill  with  the 
benevolent  intention  of  cheering  poor  Mrs.  Flabby  by 
having  a  chat  with  her. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN. 


157 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER   LEAVES   THE   WOODLANDS   FOR 
"THE  LITTLE  VILLAGE." 


ECLINING  on  the  grassy 
slope   of  Firs    Hill    were 
other  patients  of  the  In 
stitution,    who    were    not 
joining  in  the  dance  to  the 
music    of  the  band;    but 
poor  Mrs.   Flabby  sat  apart 
from    these,    and    sheltering 
herself    from    the    hot    sun 
with  a  large  parasol,  looked 
sadly     towards      the     fair 
stretch  of  landscape  that  was 
spread    before   her.     In    ac 
cordance    with   the  sanction 
that  he    had    received    from 
Dr.  Dustacre,    little    Mr. 
Bouncer  went  to  her  and  in 
troduced    himself,    in   true    English 
fashion,  by  a  remark  upon  the  weather. 
"  How  highly  favoured  we  are,  ma'am;  it  is  just  the 
very  day  for  a  pic-nic,  is  it  not?     I  hope  that  you  have 
enjoyed  it." 


I58 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


Mrs.  Flabby  graciously  bent  her  head,  evidently 
pleased  that  she  should  be  addressed  by  one  of  the 
gentlemen  visitors.  She  accepted  it  as  a  recognition 


of  her  former  rank  in  society,  and,  therefore,  felt  much 
flattered. 

"  I,"  said  Mr.  Bouncer,  "  have  enjoyed  coming  here 
very  much  indeed;    and  I  should    be   glad  to  light  a 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  159 

cigar,  if  smoking  will  not  be  any  annoyance  to  you, 
ma'am?  " 

"  Oh,  dear  no  !  "  replied  Mrs.  Flabby;  "  pray  smoke  ! 
it  will  remind  me  of  my  poor  dear  husband.  He  always 
smoked,  night  and  day.  In  my  happier  hours,  I  called 
him  my  limekiln ;  but,  it  was  not  his  fault,  poor  dear 
soul!  it  was  his  misfortune.  He  was  compelled  to 
smoke,  you  know,  in  consequence  of  that  bond  with  the 
Great  Mogul." 

"  With  the  Great  Mogul?  "  echoed  Mr.  Bouncer,  who 
was  busily  engaged  in  lighting  a  cigar  from  his  fusee- 
box,  as  he  sat  on  the  grassy  slope  near  to  Mrs.  Flabby: 
"  dear  me  !  I  never  heard  of  that." 

"No,  perhaps  not;  it  was  tried  to  be  hushed  up," 
replied  Mrs.  Flabby,  in  the  most  serious,  matter-of-fact 
way;  "but,  murder  will  out.  Yes,  the  Great  Mogul 
was  his  particular  friend.  They  had  formed  an  early 
intimacy  when  searching  for  the  North  Pole,  and  the 
recollection  of  that  terrible  incident  with  the  Great 
Bear  was  never  effaced  from  his  memory,  and  cemented 
a  friendship  which  resulted  in  an  impediment  of  the 
speech,  from  which  my  poor  husband  suffered  most 
acutely,  more  particularly  when  he  put  on  a  clean  shirt, 
with  which  I  always  kept  him  well  supplied,  and  he  had 
never  to  complain  of  the  want  of  a  button." 

"  That  is  a  very  unusual  circumstance,"  said  Mr. 
Bouncer,  as  he  puffed  away  at  his  cigar,  while  the 
strains  of  the  dance-music  floated  merrily  in  the  sum 
mer  air.  "  But  what  did  he  do  about  the  smoking  and 
the  Great  Mogul?" 

"  Ah,  that  was  very  sad  !  "  said  poor  Mrs.  Flabby, 
with  a  sigh;  "  I  grieve  to  speak  ill  of  any  one;  but,  I 
am  sorry  to  say  that  the  Great  Mogul  was  no  gentleman, 
and  that  I  was  quite  deceived  in  him." 


I00  LITTLE   MR    BOUNCER 

"Why,  what  did  he  do?  "  asked  Mr.  Bouncer. 

"What  did  he  do?"  echoed  Mrs.  Flabby,  most 
solemnly,  "  why,  he  poisoned  Victoria's  mind,  and  led 
her  to  act  towards  me  in  the  way  that  she  did." 

"What  Victoria?  You  don't  mean  her  gracious 
Majesty,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Hush  !  not  for  worlds !  "  hoarsely  whispered  Mrs. 
Flabby,  " people  are  hung  for  high  treason!  I  should 
not  like  to  see  your  head  cut  off  for  any  indiscretion." 

"  I  should  n't  like  to  see  it  myself,  as  Paddy  would 
say,"  replied  Mr.  Bouncer.  "  So  the  Great  Mogul 
poisoned  Victoria's  mind,  did  he?" 

"Yes!  he  told  her  lies — base  calumnies,  as  I  can 
prove.  It  all  arose  from  jealousy.  I  had  written  a  poem, 
called  'The  Plaintive  Periwinkle:  A  lay  of  the  Affec 
tions.'  It  taught  an  excellent  moral,  my  young  friend  ! 
Buy  it  for  your  children,  if  you  can  meet  with  a  copy ; 
but,  I  fear  that  Victoria  has  suppressed  the  edition." 

"  Why  should  she  do  so?" 

"  She  was  so  jealous  of  me  —  of  my  fame  as  a  writer, 
you  will  understand.  But  I  was  resolved  to  persevere, 
and  to  surmount  all  obstacles.  A  voice  within  told  me 
that  I  should  be  ultimately  rewarded  by  a  nation's  grat 
itude,  and  that  generations  yet  unborn  would  grow  up 
to  bless  the  author  of '  The  Plaintive  Periwinkle,'  and  to 
drop  a  silent  tear  over  her  gorgeous  tomb  in  the  Poets' 
Corner.  As  a  beginning  I  had  twenty  millions  of  copies 
printed  for  immediate  distribution.  They  were  to  be 
sown  broadcast;  thrown  into  cabs  and  omnibuses,  and 
dropped  down  areas.  Victoria  heard  of  it !  " 

"  Do  you  think,"  asked  Mr.  Bouncer,  as  though  deeply 
interested  in  the  narrative,  "  do  you  think  that  the 
Great  Mogul  could  have  told  her?" 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  l6l 

"  Of  course  !  who  else  could  have  told  her?  "  replied 
Mrs.  Flabby. 

"  Of  course !  no  one !  "  observed  Mr.  Bouncer,  as 
though  that  matter  were  now  sufficiently  self-evident. 

"  He  never  forgot  the  North  Pole  !  "  said  Mrs.  Flabby, 
solemnly.  "  I  had  warned  my  poor  husband  against 
him  from  the  first;  but  he  would  not  take  my  advice. 
It  was  entirely  through  him  that  he  lost  half  his  fortune 
in  that  unfortunate  speculation  in  Train  Oil  and  Whales' 
Blubber.  And  yet,  I  told  him  how  it  would  be." 

"  I  should  like  to  hear  what  Victoria  did  about  your 
book — 'The  Plaintive  Periwinkle,'  "  said  Mr.  Bouncer, 
anxious  to  divert  Mrs.  Flabby  from  her  reminiscences 
of  the  Great  Mogul. 

"  She  at  once  come  down  from  —  But,  no  !  high  trea 
son  !  "  whispered  the  poor  lady.  "  She  took  lodgings 
over  a  pastry-cook's,  just  opposite  to  my  window. 
Could  you  have  believed  it?" 

"  Not  unless  you  had  told  me !  "  replied  Mr.  Bouncer, 
politely. 

"  Alas,  it  is  too  true !  "  said  Mrs.  Flabby.  "  There 
she  sat  and  watched  me,  all  the  day  long.  My  poems 
were  seized  by  her  spies  and  myrmidons.  They  waylaid 
my  messengers,  and  robbed  them  of  the  precious  packets 
that  were  intended  to  do  so  much  good.  And  this,  after 
all  my  years  of  labour,  and  after  having  ruined  myself 
to  get  the  work  printed.  Oh,  what  an  effect  it  had  upon 
me  !  I  have  had  no  such  blow  until  now !  My  poor, 
poor  cat !  " 

"Your  cat?"  asked  Mr.  Bouncer. 

"  She  died  yesterday ;  she  breathed  her  last  in  these 
arms.  Oh,  that  I  could  recall  her !  she  was  my  only 
solace.  But  how  could  it  be  otherwise,  when  my  dear 

ii 


1 62  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

daughter's  spirit  was  in  her?  "  Here  the  poor  demented 
lady  burst  into  convulsive  sobs.  Mr.  Bouncer,  with 
kindly  words,  endeavoured  to  soothe  her;  but  in  vain. 
"  My  poor  cat !  "  she  sobbed ;  "  she  was  all  that  was  left 
to  me.  I  shall  never  have  another  daughter.  Oh,  she 
was  so  good  and  loving !  " 

The  conversation  had  taken  an  unexpected  turn,  and 
Mr.  Bouncer  began  to  fear  he  should  be  doing  harm  if 
he  continued  the  interview  with  Mrs.  Flabby;  so,  with  a 
few  more  cheering  and  reassuring  words,  he  got  up  from 
the  grass,  and  said,  "  I  will  go  and  see  how  the  dancers 
are  getting  on.  They  seem  to  be  enjoying  themselves. 
Won't  you  come  nearer  to  them,  ma'am?  " 

"  Not  just  yet !  soon.  Oh,  how  kind  you  have  been 
to  me !  "  said  poor  Mrs.  Flabby. 

After  Mr.  Bouncer  had  rejoined  the  party  on  the  sum 
mit  of  Firs  Hill,  he  mentioned  to  Dr.  Dustacre  a  portion 
of  Mrs.  Flabby's  conversation,  and  asked  if  there  were 
any  foundation  for  her  statements. 

"  For  her  poem,  I  know  there  is,"  answered  the  Doc 
tor.  "  She  published  some  little  book  for  children,  of 
which  she  thought  highly,  and  from  which  she  expected 
to  gain  both  money  and  reputation.  She  was  deceived, 
as  other  authors  have  been ;  and,  I  daresay,  it  preyed 
upon  her  mind.  As  to  her  cat,  that  is,  unfortunately, 
true.  When  a  kitten,  it  belonged  to  the  master  of  the 
institution.  Mrs.  Flabby  begged  to  have  it,  and  her 
request  was  granted.  I  think  she  must  have  had  it 
nearly  five  years.  Unfortunately,  it  died  about  a  fort 
night  ago  ;  and  Mrs.  Flabby  has  felt  its  death  the  more 
keenly  as  she  believed  that  it  was  animated  by  the  spirit 
of  a  deceased  daughter.  Such  a  belief  is  by  no  means 
rare.  A  similar  fancy,  you  may  remember,  is  mentioned 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  163 

in  Byron's  '  Bride  of  Abydos,'  where,  in  the  notes  to  the 
poem,  mention  is  made  of  a  wealthy  lady  at  Worcester, 
who  believed  that  her  deceased  daughter  existed  in  the 
shape  of  a  singing-bird ;  and  who,  in  consequence,  was 
allowed  to  furnish  her  pew  in  the  Cathedral  with  cages 
of  birds,  whose  songs  must  have  somewhat  interfered 
with  the  service." 

Poor  Mrs.  Flabby  had  dried  her  tears  and  recovered 
her  composure  by  dinner-time,  though  Mr.  Bouncer  did 
not  attempt  to  renew  his  conversation  with  her  concern 
ing  either  her  cat  or  the  Great  Mogul.  The  pic-nic 
dinner  was  laid  out,  as  the  luncheon  had  been,  on  the 
summit  of  the  hill,  in  the  shade  of  the  group  of  Scotch 
firs.  Three  o'clock  was  the  hour  fixed  for  it ;  and  by 
that  time,  as  everyone's  appetite  was  sharpened  by  air 
and  exercise,  full  justice  could  be  done  to  the  beefsteak 
pies,  and  the  joints  of  cold  meat,  and  the  pastry,  and 
other  good  things  provided  for  the  occasion.  Even 
poor  Mrs.  Flabby,  seated  between  the  matron  and  Dr. 
Plimmer,  appeared,  for  a  time,  to  forget  her  sorrow; 
and  one  and  all,  patients  and  visitors,  enjoyed  the  social 
gathering.  After  dinner,  music  and  dancing  alternated 
for  the  remainder  of  the  evening;  and  little  Mr.  Bouncer 
not  only  persuaded  Mrs.  Flabby  to  be  his  partner  in  a 
country  dance,  but  also  covered  himself  with  glory  by 
singing  Dibdin's  "  Tight  Little  Island,"  which  he  had 
often  sung  at  wine-parties  at  Brazenface,  where,  however, 
the  chorus  to  that  patriotic  song  had  never  been  so 
enthusiastically  rendered  as  it  was  by  the  pic-nic 
company  assembled  on  Firs  Hill.  It  did  Mr.  Boun 
cer's  heart  good  to  hear  the  full  chorus  of  voices 
proclaiming  — 


164  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

For,  oh  !  she  's  a  right  little  island, 
A  tight  little,  right  little  island  ; 

Search  the  world  round, 

There  ne'er  will  be  found, 
Such  another  sweet,  beautiful  island. 

There  was  quite  an  al  fresco  concert  One  of  the 
female  patients  sang  "  Auld  Robin  Gray,"  in  a  manner 
to  bring  tears  to  many  eyes;  though  these  tears  were 
soon  chased  away  by  that  male  patient,  who  had  acted  as 
drummer  of  the  band,  singing,  with  admirable  humour, 
two  comic  songs,  one  of  which  was  "  Villikins  and  his 
Dinah,"  then  in  the  height  of  its  Robsonian  fame.  And 
so,  with  music,  song,  and  dance,  the  happy  day  drew  to 
its  close ;  and  they,  for  whose  healthy  amusement  this 
pic-nic  had  been  designed,  took  back  with  them,  it  is  to 
be  hoped,  many  sunny  fancies  wherewith  to  cheer  less 
happy  moments.  The  party  from  the  Woodlands  had 
bidden  adieu  to  Dr.  Dustacre  and  Dr.  Plimmer  an  hour 
or  so  before  poor  Mrs.  Flabby  and  her  companions 
were  driven  away  from  Firs  Hill  —  a  spot  which  Mr. 
Bouncer  long  remembered. 

After  spending  a  few  more  pleasant  days  at  the  Wood 
lands,  it  was  time  for  him  to  get  home,  which  he  sought 
to  do  by  way  of  what  he  termed  "  The  Little  Village;  " 
so  he  said  good-bye  to  the  Squire  and  to  his  college 
friend,  whom  he  would  not  meet  again  until  they  had 
got  back  to  Oxford  at  the  end  of  the  Long  Vacation. 
A  groom  drove  him  to  the  station  in  a  dog-cart,  which 
was  somewhat  heavily  weighted  with  luggage,  and,  to 
the  back  seat  of  which,  Huz  and  Buz  were  securely 
chained.  Mr.  Smalls'  late  guest  pulled  up  at  the  tiny 
lodge  to  give  a  tip  to  the  woman  who  opened  the  gate ; 
then  they  drove  along  the  road  where  he  had  walked 


AND   HIS    FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  165 

with  Dr.  Dustacre ;  past  the  plantation,  with  its  under 
growth  of  evergreens ;  then,  round  the  corner,  by  the 
cross-roads,  where  had  stood  the  chaise  into  which  he 
had  been  forcibly  hoisted  by  the  broad-shouldered 
Brand ;  and,  so  on,  past  the  point  where  he  had  been 
opportunely  rescued  by  the  Squire  in  his  mail-phaeton. 
Little  Mr.  Bouncer  laughed  to  himself  as  he  recalled 
the  scene. 

He  was  in  good  time  at  the  Barham  Station.  Dis 
missing  the  groom  and  dog-cart,  he  saw  to  his  luggage, 
and  took  Huz  and  Buz,  tethered  by  a  chain,  on  to  the 
platform.  It  was  a  hot  July  day,  and  it  struck  Mr. 
Bouncer  that  it  would  be  advisable  to  refresh  himself 
with  a  glass  of  bitter  beer.  He,  therefore,  went  in 
search  of  the  refreshment-room ;  but,  he  sought  for  it  in 
vain ;  the  small  Barham  Station  could  not  boast  of  so 
valuable  an  addition  to  its  provision  for  the  public  wants. 
At  the  same  moment,  there  walked  on  to  the  platform 
a  seedy  and  battered-looking  man,  who  carried  on  his 
arm  a  large  basket,  the  contents  of  which  made  it  self- 
evident  that  it  was,  in  fact,  the  peripatetic  refresh 
ment-room  of  the  Barham  Station.  Any  doubt  on  this 
subject  would  have  been  removed  from  Mr.  Bouncer's 
mind,  by  the  man  approaching  him  with  the  query,  "  Re 
freshments,  sir?"  and  holding  out  to  him,  as  the  most 
tempting  sample  of  the  contents  of  his  basket,  a  greasy 
mutton-pie,  the  sight  and  smell  of  which  delicacy  were 
not  so  agreeable  to  Mr.  Bouncer  as  to  Huz  and  Buz, 
who  tugged  and  tore  at  their  chain,  in  the  vain  en 
deavour  to  possess  themselves  of  so  choice  a  dainty. 


i66 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER   IS    UNAVOIDABLY    DETAINED   AT 
BARHAM. 


S  the  mutton-pie  was  held 
forth  by  its  owner  and 
vendor  for  little  Mr.  Boun 
cer's  approval  and  pur 
chase,  an  aroma  stole 
from  it  that  altogether 
overpowered  the  sweet 
scent  of  the  newly-mown 
grass  by  which  the  July  air 
was  exquisitely  perfumed. 
Loose-shirted  rustics,  swelter 
ing  in  the  heat  of  a  noon-day 
sun,  were  tossing  up  and  turn 
ing  over  the  fragrant  shocks  of 
tedded  hay  in  the  fields  that  lay 
around  the  Barham  Station, 
doing  their  best  to  practically 
carry  out  the  proverb  that  di 
rects  us  to  make  hay  while  the  sun  shines ; 
and  although  his  calling  was  different  and 
less  poetical  than  that  of  the  haymaker, 
yet  the  seller  of  mutton-pies,  who  had  ap 
peared  before  Mr.  Bouncer  in  the  char- 
peripatetic  refreshment-roorri  of  the  Barham 


of  the 


AND    HIS    FRIEND    VERDANT   GREEN.  167 

Station,  was,  in  effect,  endeavouring  to  make  his  hay 
while  the  sun  shone,  by  trying  to  procure  a  sale  from 
the  beneficent  patronage  of  Mr.  Bouncer. 

Now,  to  purchase  mutton-pies — and  that,  too,  under 
a  hot  July  sun  —  from  a  gentleman  whom  you  have 
casually  met,  and  the  antecedents  of  whom  (and  his 
pies)  are  altogether  hidden  from  your  knowledge,  must 
be  a  daring  experiment  under  any  circumstances  and  to 
any  person.  And  as,  in  the  present  instance,  the  out 
ward  appearance  of  the  vendor  did  not  offer  a  sufficient 
guarantee  for  the  inward  excellence  of  the  proffered  pie, 
the  proposed  transaction  did  not  by  any  means  recom 
mend  itself  to  Mr.  Bouncer,  who,  therefore,  promptly 
and  curtly  declined  the  proposal  of  the  individual  who 
represented  the  peripatetic  refreshment-room  of  the  Bar- 
ham  Station.  Nevertheless,  that  greasy-looking  person 
age  continued  to  hold  out  the  specimen  of  his  wares, 
and  to  beg  the  little  gentleman  to  purchase  it 

"  Do  try  one,  sir  !  it 's  only  tuppence ;  and  it 's  cheap 
and  nourishin'  for  the  money.  The  finest  mutton-pies 
in  Barham  or  hanywares ;  made  by  myself  out  o'  the 
very  primest  and  juiciest  cuts.  Just  try  one,  sir !  you 
can  do  so,  free,  gracious,  and  for  nothin' ;  and  if  you 
don't  like  it,  you  need  n't  pay  for  it,  and  no  questions 
shall  be  ever  axed.  You  can  wash  it  down  with  some 
o'  this  first-rate  pop  —  only  a  penny  a  bottle,  and  like 
wise  made  by  myself.  The  best  pop,  remember! 
recommended  by  the  faculty  as  the  primest  and  whole- 
somest  drink  in  'ot  weather.  Warranted  to  cure  the 
colic  and  the  gout,  pains  within  and  pains  without; 
and  all  for  the  small  charge  of  a  penny  a  bottle.  One 
bottle  taken  with  one  mutton-pie  'as  been  known  to 
make  the  face  shine  like  the  best  bear's  grease ;  and  two 


1 68 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


bottles,  swallered  in  conjunction  with  two  mutton-pies, 
'as  produced  effects  upon  the  curlin'  of  the  'uman  'air 
and  whiskers,  which  must  be  seen  to  be  believed." 


But  Mr.  Bouncer  remained  proof  against  the  tempta 
tion  of  the  mutton-pie,  even  with  the  addition  of  the 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  169 

ginger-beer ;  and,  as  he  gazed  on  the  delicacy  that  was 
held  out  to  him  from  the  man's  basket,  he  wondered 
how  much  dyspepsia  —  to  call  it  by  its  mildest  name  — 
was  compressed  within  the  narrow  limits  of  that  two- 
pennyworth  of  paste  and  meat.  And  he  thought  of  Dr. 
Wm.  Brinton's  clever  Frazer  parody  of  Campbell's 
"  Hohenlinden,"  where  the  railway  passengers  took  their 
hurried  meal  at  Swindon  - 

When  the  train  came  at  dead  of  night, 
Commanding  oil  and  gas  to  light 
Much  stale  confectionery. 

•  After  which  occurred  the  pangs  — 

Where  curious  tart  and  heavy  bun 

Lie  in  dyspeptic  sympathy. 
Few,  few  digest  where  many  eat, 
The  nightmare  shall  wind  up  their  feat, 
Each  carpet-bag  beneath  their  feet 

Shall  seem  a  yawning  sepulchre. 

But,  although  Mr.  Bouncer  considered  it  highly  prob 
able  that  a  like  result  would  ensue  on  his  patronage  of 
the  contents  of  the  man's  basket,  yet,  with  Huz  and 
Buz,  it  was  a  very  different  matter.  Those  intelligent 
animals  struggled  hard  at  the  chain  by  which  their  mas 
ter  held  them  and  made  every  outward  demonstration 
of  their  desire  to  obtain  possession  of  the  dainty,  the 
very  whiff  of  which  was  to  them  so  appetising.  Mr. 
Bouncer,  being  tender-hearted  and  fond  of  his  pets,  and 
being,  moreover,  amused  with  the  man's  quaint  and 
persistent  recommendation  of  his  viands,  patronised  the 
peripatetic  refreshment-room  by  expending  the  sum  of 
fourpence  in  the  purchase  of  two  mutton-pies  for  the 
express  delectation  of  Huz  and  Buz ;  and,  as  he  watched 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

them  greedily  devouring  their  pasties,  he  hummed  a 
fragment  of  a  popular  song  — 

They  gave  me  mutton  pies 
In  which  I  did  recognise 

The  flavour  of  my  old  Dog  Tray. 

At  any  rate,  Mr.  Bouncer  had  spared  himself  from  any 
similar  recognition;  and  he  was  quite  satisfied  with 
witnessing  the  enjoyment  of  Huz  and  Buz,  who,  how 
ever,  did  not  appear  to  be  equally  well  satisfied,  but,  like 
Oliver,  asked  for  more.  "No,  no,"  said  their  master; 
"  it  won't  do,  my  doggies.  A  little  of  that  sort  of  thing 
goes  a  long  way  on  a  railway  journey;  and,  if  you  were 
to  eat  more  of  them,  they  might  interfere  with  your 
digestive  apparatus,  and  then  you  'd  get  the  mulligrubs 
in  your  collywobbles."  So,  he  removed  Huz  and  Buz 
out  of  the  sight  of  the  unwholesome  dainties,  and  was 
glad  when  the  vendor  of  the  mutton-pies  had  taken 
himself  from  off  the  platform. 

Except  when  trains  came  in,  there  was  not  much  life 
to  be  seen  at  the  Barham  Station;  and,  as  it  was  situ 
ated  in  a  deep  cutting,  there  was  but  little  view  from 
the  platform.  There  was  a  coal  dfyot,  and  there  was 
a  spasmodic  engine,  vaguely  wandering  up  and  down, 
with  the  ultimate  object  of  getting  some  trucks  out  of 
a  siding.  The  entire  staff  of  the  station  (two  men  and 
a  boy)  was  so  fully  engaged  in  this  noisy  duty,  that,  on 
Mr.  Bouncer's  arrival,  Mr.  Small's  coachman  had  taken 
the  luggage  on  to  the  platform  while  Mr.  Bouncer  held 
the  horse.  Of  course,  as  there  was  no  refreshment  for 
the  body —  except  the  mutton-pie  man  — so,  there  was 
no  refreshment  for  the  mind,  in  the  shape  of  a  bookstall 
or  newspaper  stand;  and,  if  Mr.  Bouncer  desired  to 


AND   HIS   FRIEND    VERDANT   GREEN.  171 

purchase  the  latest  copy  of  the  "  Barham  Mercury  and 
Poynton  Gazette,"  he  must  do  so  elsewhere  than  at  the 
Barham  Station.  His  train  was  already  due;  and,  while 
he  was  debating  whether  he  should  have  time  to  make 
his  way  to  an  inn  that  he  had  passed,  not  far  from  the 
station  —  the  same  inn  that  had  supplied  Dr.  Dustacre 
with  the  chaise  —  and  there  have  a  glass  of  beer,  the 
ticket-taker  told  him,  in  answer  to  his  inquiry,  that  the 
up-train  would  not  be  in  for  at  least  an  hour;  for, 
the  line  was  blocked  further  up. 

"Not  a  serious  accident,  I  hope?"  inquired  Mr. 
Bouncer. 

"  Oh,  no,"  was  the  prompt  reply ;  "  only  a  coal  run 
into  a  cattle."  Experience  had  taught  him  to  look  on 
these  events  with  official  calm. 

Now,  it  would  be  wearisome  to  pass  at  least  an  hour 
of  unavoidable  delay  at  so  uninteresting  a  place  as  the 
Barham  Station.  There  were  the  usual  notices  and 
time-tables  hanging  in  frames  on  the  wall;  but,  the 
mind  would  soon  be  fatigued  with  attempting  to  unravel 
the  wild  enigmas  of  "  Bradshaw,"  or  spelling  out  the 
large-lettered  advertisements  of  somebody's  Cocoa  and 
some  one  else's  Tea.  There  was  a  waiting-room,  it  was 
true ;  but,  it  was  not  inviting,  with  its  hard  benches  and 
its  haggard  and  dirty  aspect,  as  though  it  had  sat  up  ever 
so  many  nights,  and  had  not  washed  itself  in  the  morning. 
There  was  nothing  else,  except  the  impenetrable  wooden 
screen  that  concealed  from  view  the  form  of  the  ticket- 
taker;  but,  as  he  was  a  youth  of  fourteen,  with  an  un 
wholesome  face,  and  an  appearance  of  having  lived  chiefly 
on  pickles,  the  screen  was  a  merciful  interposition,  more 
especially  at  such  times  as  the  ticket-taker's  wooden 
window  was  tightly  closed.  There  was  nothing,  in  short, 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

in  the  aspect  of  the  Barham  Station  to  induce  any  sane 
person  to  try  the  experiment  of  wiling  away  a  long  hour 
in  its  precincts.  So,  Mr.  Bouncer  made  friends  with  a 
porter,  who  was  temporarily  disengaged  from  his  shunt 
ing  duties,  and  Huz  and  Buz  were  shut  up  in  a  lamp- 
and-grease  room  until  the  time  was  come  when  the  line 
should  be  cleared  and  his  train  in  readiness  to  take  him 
to  "  the  little  village." 

Then  he  went  to  the  inn  and  had  a  glass  of  beer ;  but 
did  not  care  to  remain  there,  as  he  saw  the  driver  of  Dr. 
Dustacre's  chaise,  who  recognised  him  with  a  familiar 
grin,  and  pointed  him  out  to  an  ostler  and  chambermaid 
as  "  the  party  who  was  took  for  a  loonattic."  As  Mr. 
Bouncer  did  not  care  for  this  particular  kind  of  notoriety, 
he  thought  that  he  would  consume  the  hour  of  his  deten 
tion  by  walking  through  the  little  market-town  of  Bar- 
ham  ;  but,  as  the  town  was  not  very  large,  and  did  not 
contain  many  greater  objects  of  attraction  than  the 
old  market-place,  the  town-hall,  and  town-pump,  his 
survey  of  it  was  soon  exhausted.  Then  he  beguiled 
himself  by  looking  in  at  the  shop-windows,  and  thereby 
raising  hopes  in  the  breasts  of  several  shopkeepers  that 
were  doomed  to  be  disappointed. 

But,  there  was  one  exception.  In  one  of  the  windows 
were  two  wax  busts  of  a  very  pink-cheeked  gentleman 
and  a  very  large-eyed  lady,  who  were  attired  in  nothing 
to  speak  of  except  a  little  fancy  satin  and  their  own  luxu 
riant  heads  of  hair.  The  contemplation  of  these  florid 
works  of  art  suggested  to  Mr.  Bouncer  the  notion  that 
he  might  as  well  consume  the  time  profitably  by  having 
his  hair  cut.  Over  the  door  was  the  name  of  Quickfall, 
with  the  further  information  that  Mr.  Quickfall  was  a 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  173 

hairdresser  and  perfumer,  and  that,  in  Quickfall's  spa 
cious  hair-cutting  saloons,  ladies  and  gentlemen  would 
be  waited  upon  by  the  proprietor  and  competent  assist 
ants  from  London  and  Paris.  So,  Mr.  Bouncer  went 
into  the  shop. 


174 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

LITTLE   MR.    BOUNCER   MAKES   HIS   ESCAPE   FROM 
MR.    QUICKFALL. 


PENING  Mr.  Quick- 
fall's  shop-door,  Mr. 
Bouncer  set  off  a 
small  shrill-tongued 
bell  into  a  screaming 
summons  for  the  im 
mediate  appearance 
of  the  proprietor  and  his 
competent  assistants  from 
London  and  Paris.  Per 
haps  the  latter  were 
mythical  persons ;  or, 
they  may  have  been  en 
gaged  at  their  dinners; 
any  way,  Mr.  Bouncer's 
head  was  not  confided  to 
their  tonsorial  care ;  and 
it  was  the  proprietor  of 
the  establishment  who 
waited  upon  him,  and 
ushered  him,  through  the 
shop,  into  one  of  the  advertised  "  spacious  hair-cutting 
saloons." 


AND    HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  175 

Perhaps,  when  Mr.  Quickfall  had  thus  described  his 
premises,  he  had  contemplated  vast  alterations  which  he 
had  never  carried  out;  for  the  small  apartment  into 
which  Mr.  Bouncer  was  shown  had  all  the  cheerlessness 
of  the  desert,  without  its  limitless  prospect.  In  fact,  the 
view  through  the  solitary  window  was  restricted  to  a 
water-butt  of  bloated  dimensions,  and  a  dead  wall  of 
uncompromising  brickiness.  On  the  floor  was  an  atten 
uated  piece  of  oilcloth,  the  pattern  of  which  had  long 
since  been  starved  out ;  and  on  a  table  by  the  window 
were  arranged  the  unguents,  soaps,  brushes,  combs, 
hair-oil,  cigars,  and  other  commodities  in  which  Mr. 
Quickfall  dealt  He  was  a  tall,  largely  made  man,  who, 
in  years,  had  passed  what  is  usually  called  "  the  prime 
of  life  " — a  most  uncertain  and  indefinite  expression, 
especially  when  we  call  to  mind  such  examples  of  youth 
ful,  hard-working  septuagenarians  as  Lord  Palmerston 
and  many  of  our  Judges  and  Lord  Chancellors.  Mr. 
Quickfall  had  a  slow,  ponderous  manner,  in  keeping 
with  his  dimensions,  and  suggesting  the  notion  of  an 
amiable  elephant  who  had  taken  to  hair-cutting  from  mere 
philanthropy.  He  was  in  his  shirt-sleeves  and  carpet 
slippers,  and  was  girt  about  with  a  white  apron,  fur 
nished  with  pockets  for  the  implements  of  his  trade. 

Mr.  Bouncer  took  his  seat  on  the  operating  chair, 
where  Mr.  Quickfall,  by  the  aid  of  a  cotton  wrapper, 
folded  him  into  the  semblance  of  a  parcel,  as  though  he 
were  to  be  forthwith  ticketed  and  sent  away  by  the  next 
train  from  the  Barham  Station.  Such  a  journey  had,  in 
fact,  to  be  taken  by  Mr.  Bouncer,  who  began  to  fear  that 
his  progress  to  "  the  little  village  "  would  be  somewhat 
delayed,  if  this  Barham  barber  did  not  hurry  himself  a 
little  more  than,  at  the  present,  he  seemed  inclined  to 


i;6  LITTLE   MR    BOUNCER 

do.  For  it  very  quickly  was  made  evident  that,  although 
Mr.  Quickfall  was  slow  in  action,  yet  he  was  quick  in 
speech,  and  was  a  most  communicative  person.  He  had 
no  sooner  got  Mr.  Bouncer  well  tucked  up  into  a  parcel, 
and  had  brushed  his  hair  all  over  his  eyes,  than  he 
solemnly  paused  at  the  very  initiation  of  his  work  to 
commence  a  highly  uninteresting  narrative  concerning 
the  election  of  a  new  member  of  the  Town  Council.  It 
appeared,  from  the  statements  to  which  Mr.  Bouncer,  in 
his  helpless  and  packed-up  state,  was  compelled  to  listen, 
that  Mr.  Quickfall  was  a  member  of  that  august  body, 
and  that  the  present  contest  was  tearing  Barham  to 
pieces,  and  wounding  it  in  its  very  tenderest  points; 
and  that,  if  the  obnoxious  person  —  whose  name  was 
Tarver  —  should  succeed  in  his  election,  the  doom  of 
Barham  was  virtually  settled,  and  its  position  in  the  eyes 
of  Europe  irretrievably  compromised.  But  Mr.  Quick- 
fall  entertained  the  hope  that  he  himself  might  be  the 
humble  instrument  of  opening  the  eyes  of  Barham  to  a 
proper  sense  of  its  true  position,  and  of  ridding  the  Town 
Council  of  the  dreadful  incubus  of  a  Tarver. 

While  he  uttered  these  patriotic  sentiments,  Mr. 
Quickfall  was  far  too  engrossed  with  his  subject  to  con 
tinue  his  hair-dressing  duties;  and,  with  comb  and 
scissors  in  his  outstretched  hands,  he  stood  in  front  of 
his  customer,  as  though  time  were  no  object  with  him, 
and  that  the  business  of  hair-cutting  could  be  continued 
at  convenient  intervals  during  the  progress  of  his  address. 
Little  Mr.  Bouncer,  who  was  utterly  indifferent  not  only 
to  the  success  of  Tarver,  but  to  the  doom  of  Barham, 
thought  of  Crowquill's  sketch  of  the  talkative  parrot  of 
a  hairdresser,  who  says  to  the  bear,  upon  whose  head  he 
is  engaged,  "  Do  you  think  we  shall  have  a  war  with 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  177 

Roosher,  sir?"  To  which  the  old  bear  sulkily  replies, 
"  Don't  chatter,  sir ;  but  dress  my  hair."  And,  further, 
he  called  to  mind  the  old  anecdote  how  a  person  in  his 
position  had  repeatedly  said  to  the  loquacious  barber, 
"  Do  cut  it  short !  "  until  the  barber,  accepting  the 
adjuration  as  applied  not  to  his  own  narrative,  but  to  his 
customer's  hair,  replied,  "  I  don't  think  it  can  be  cut 
shorter,  sir ;  for  there  is  no  more  hair  to  cut."  Ponder 
ing  on  this  anecdote,  Mr.  Bouncer  thought  it  wiser  to 
hold  his  tongue,  and  to  sit,  like  Patience  on  the  oilcloth, 
while  Mr.  Quickfall  harangued  him. 

It  seemed  as  though  the  barber  of  Barham  might  have 
said,  "  Bid  me  discourse;  I  will  enchant  thine  ear;"  for 
he,  evidently,  must  have  entertained  a  strong  impression 
of  his  own  capability  for  a  monologue  entertainment. 
Something  that  he  had  said  in  reference  to  an  anony 
mous  letter  that  had  been  forwarded  to  him  in  connection 
with  that  terrible  Tarver  business,  and  which  letter  Mr. 
Quickfall  denotmced  as  an  impudent  forgery,  reminded 
him  of  an  episode  in  his  younger  years,  which,  as  a  mat 
ter  of  course,  Mr.  Quickfall  very  leisurely  narrated,  the 
while  he  made  a  full  pause  in  the  operations  on  Mr. 
Bouncer's  head. 

"  It  was  while  I  was  apprentice  to  Hopkins,  late 
Nicholson,  in  London,  that  I  was  sent  for  to  cut  a  party 
at  his  own  private  house.  A  very  pleasant  and  respec 
table  party  he  was,  with  a  handsome  face,  bold  features 
and  a  fine  physic."  By  which  Mr.  Quickfall  meant 
physique.  "  Most  affable  he  was  in  his  conversation,  and 
he  asked  me  what  I  had  heard  about  the  reports  that 
were  afloat  concerning  Marsh  and  Stracey's  bank  in 
Berners  Street.  I  told  him  all  that  I  knew,  which  was 
not  of  the  best ;  but,  he  seemed  to  think  that  it  would 

12 


1 78 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


blow  over,  and  that  all  would  come  right.  Well,  sir,  I 
finished  cutting  that  party;  and  it  was  n't  till  three  days 
after  that  I  found  out  who  he  was.  He  was  Fauntleroy, 


the  banker  and  forger;  Marsh  and  Stracey's  had  broke, 
and  he  was  in  prison.  Nothing  could  save  him ;  the 
Bank  of  England  lost  three  hundred  and  sixty  thousand 
pounds  by  him  ;  and  he  was  condemned  to  die.  I  well 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  179 

remember  the  day;  it  was  November  the  thirtieth,  1824. 
Having  been  the  last  person  to  cut  that  party,  my  gov 
ernor  gave  me  leave  to  go  and  see  the  execution  at 
Newgate.  Such  a  crowd  I  have  never  seen  before  or 
since ;  but,  Mr.  Fauntleroy  bore  himself  like  a  man,  and 
passed  away  quite  quietly.  Yes,  sir ;  you  see  before  you 
the  very  same  individual  who  was  the  last  person  to  cut 
a  party  who  was  hung  for  forgeries  that  cost  the  Bank 
of  England  three  hundred  and  sixty  thousand  pounds." 
Mr.  Quickfall  mentioned  this  sum  very  slowly  and  with 
great  unction,  as  though  the  extent  of  the  crime  in  some 
way  reflected  credit  upon  himself. 

"  I,  also,  must  cut  a  party,  for  I  must  cut  away  from 
you,"  said  little  Mr.  Bouncer,  as  he  rose  to  his  feet,  and 
endeavoured  to  shake  himself  free  from  the  semblance 
of  a  parcel.  "  I  'm  not  a  wedding  guest,  and  you're  not 
an  ancient  mariner ;  and,  if  I  stop  to  hear  any  more  of 
your  rummy  nuisances  —  that  is  to  say,  reminiscences 
—  I  shall  miss  my  train." 

"  But,  I  Ve  only  cut  your  hair  on  one  side,  sir !  " 
remonstrated  Mr.  Quickfall. 

"  All  the  same,  I  can't  wait  to  have  the  other  side 
cut ;  so,  I  must  journey  up  to  Town  half  shorn."  And 
Mr.  Bouncer  meant  what  he  said ;  for,  he  freed  himself 
from  the  cotton  wrapper,  and,  despite  the  entreaties  of 
Mr.  Quickfall,  quitted  that  person's  spacious  hair-cutting 
saloon,  its  proprietor  being  "  left  lamenting,"  like  Lord 
Ullin  in  Campbell's  ballad,  but  firmly  refusing  to  take 
his  customer's  sixpence,  on  the  ground  that,  if  he  were 
paid  for  an  incompleted  job,  it  might  provide  his  implac 
able  foe,  Tarver,  with  a  stinging  taunt  against  him  as  a 
member  of  the  Town  Council  of  Barham. 


i8o 


LITTLE   MR    BOUNCER 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


LITTLE     MR.   BOUNCER    IS   LANDED    AT  THE 
VILLAGE." 


LITTLE 


ASTENING  from  the 
shop  of  the  too  com 
municative  hair  dresser, 
and  leaving  to  future 
customers  the  task  of 
discovering  the  exact  di 
mensions  of  the  spa 
cious  hair-cutting  saloons 
of  Mr.  Quickfall,  and 
also  to  identify  the  com 
petent  staff  of  assistants 
from  London  and  Paris,  who,  together  with  the  spacious 
saloons,  had  not  been  visible  to  the  naked  eye  of  Mr. 
Bouncer  —  that  gentleman  made  the  best  of  his  way 
through  the  little  market-town  to  the  Barham  Railway 
Station.  As  he  did  so,  and  thought  of  his  half-cropped 
head  of  hair,  the  following  scene  was  vividly  recalled  to 
his  memory. 

One  morning,  after  lectures  for  the  day  were  over,  he 
had  gone  into  Verdant  Green's  rooms,  and,  after  consol 
ing  himself  with  a  pipe,  had  said,  "  Giglamps,  old  fellow ! 
I  vote  we  do  the  pretty  gee-gees  this  afternoon !  " 


AND    HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  l8l 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  asked  Verdant,  who  had  not 
yet  become  fully  acquainted  with  his  friend's  peculiar 
phraseology. 

"  Why,  have  a  ride  instead  of  taking  a  constitutional," 
explained  Mr.  Bouncer. 

"  Oh,  certainly;  all  right!  I  shall  be  delighted,"  said 
Verdant. 

"  Then,  if  you  're  delighted,  and  if  I  'm  delighted 
also,"  observed  Mr.  Bouncer,  "  we  shall  be  like  Ingolds- 
by's  '  Babes  in  the  Wood '  — 

'  The  two  little  dears  were  delighted 
To  think  they  a  cock-horse  should  ride, 

And  were  not  in  the  least  degree  frighted.' 

You  won't  be  frighted  to  ride  a  cock-horse  now,  shall 
you  ?  now  that  you  have  got  that  easy-going  old  screw 
—  no  !  we  won't  call  him  a  screw !  we  '11  say,  that  noble 
steed  of  Charley  Symonds.  He 's  warranted  not  to  toss 
you  up  without  catching  you  again,  isn't  he?  and  he 
carries  you  as  though  you  were  sitting  in  an  easy-chair 
without  any  stuffing  in  the  cushions,  doesn't  he?  If 
you  keep  your  seat  as  well  as  you  contrived  to  do  when 
we  went  to  Woodstock  the  other  day,  I  expect  you  '11  be 
bursting  into  verse,  like  Eliza  Cook  in  breeches,  with 
something  of  this  sort  — 

I  love  it,  I  love  it,  and  who  can  tear 

My  seat  from  C.  Symonds's  old  bay  mare  ! 

Singing  's  thirsty  work,  Giglamps.  Why  don't  you  order 
some  beer,  you  ungrateful  wretch?  Shall  I  holloa  for 
Robert?" 

Mr.  Verdant  Green  gave  the  required  permission  ;  and 
Mr.  Filcher,  after  much  shouting,  eventually  brought 
the  desired  refreshment 


1 82  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Bouncer,  when  he  had  quenched  his 
thirst  and  ended  his  smoke,  "  I  '11  get  my  usual  hack  at 
Tollitt's,  and  join  you  at  Symonds's  after  lunch,  and 
we  '11  have  a  canter  somewhere,  and,  perhaps,  a  decanter 
afterwards.  There  's  a  fine  old  crusted  joke  for  you ! 
We  can  supply  them  to  you  at  thirteen  to  the  dozen ; 
country  orders  executed  with  promptitude  and  despatch. 
Well,  ta-ta,  Giglamps !  you  '11  be  on  the  look-out  for 
me  at  the  gateway  in  Holywell  Street,  won't  you,  my 
precious?  " 

So  it  was  agreed  upon.  But,  when  Mr.  Bouncer  went 
to  Tollitt's,  he  could  not  get  a  hack.  For  some  reason, 
there  was  a  great  demand  for  them  that  day. 

"  It 's  what  we  may  call  a  haccident,  Mr.  Bouncer !  " 
said  the  stable-man. 

"A  hack-sident,  did  you  say?  Why,  you  're  setting 
up  quite  for  a  wit,  Joe !  we  must  call  you  Joe  Miller,  if 
this  sort  of  thing  goes  on.  You  '11  be  saying  next  that, 
instead  of  the  horses  running,  there  's  a  run  upon  the 
horses."  The  stable-man  grinned.  Mr.  Bouncer  was  a 
favourite,  and  was  generally  good  for  a  glass. 

The  little  gentleman  went  on  to  Pigg's;  but,  every 
horse  in  those  stables  was  engaged,  except  one  that  was 
being  clipped.  The  operator  had  just  finished  one  side 
of  the  animal,  and  was  about  to  begin  work  on  the  other 
side,  when  Mr.  Bouncer  cried,  "  Hold  hard,  my  man !  I 
must  have  that  horse." 

"  But,  he's  only  half-clipped,  sir!  " 

"  Never  mind  !  a  sweater  will  do  him  good." 

".But,  he  '11  look  so  queer!  " 

"  Oh,  never  mind  that.  I  '11  manage  to  present  his 
broad-side  view  to  the  public,  and  they  '11  never  see  that 
one  side  's  different  from  the  other."  So,  despite  further 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN 


183 


protestations  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Pigg's  man,  who  was 
jealous  for  the  honour  of  his  master's  stables,  Mr.  Boun 
cer  had  the  horse  saddled,  and  rode  him  to  Holywell 
Street.  He  found  Mr.  Verdant  Green  in  front  of 
Symonds's  gateway,  waiting  there  on  foot,  being  fearful 
to  mount  his  steed  before  his  friend's  arrival,  lest  the 
horse  should  become  fidgety  with  waiting,  and  bring 
him  to  grief,  untimely.  But,  the  easy-chair  bay  mare 
was  quickly  produced,  and  the  two  friends  went  for  their 
ride ;  nor  did  Verdant  notice  the  state  of  Mr.  Bouncer's 
half-clipped  horse ;  but,  then,  the  eyesight  of  Mr.  Ver 
dant  Green  was  not  particularly  good. 

They  had  turned  their  horses'  heads  in  the  direction 
of  Oxford,  on  their  way  back  home,  when  Charles 
Larkyns  cantered  up  and 
joined  them.  He  was 
mounted  on  that  very  hack 
of  Tollitt's  that  was  usually 
hired  by  Mr.  Bouncer; 
and,  after  a  few  moments' 
scrutiny,  as  he  reined  in 
his  horse  by  his  friend's 
side,  he  said,  "Why, 
you  Ve  changed  your  horse 
since  you  started  !  " 

"  Indeed,  I  have  n't,"  re 
plied  Mr.  Bouncer.  "  Gig- 
lamps  will  tell  you  it 's  the 
werry  identical.  There  is 
no  deception,  my  little 
dear." 

"  But,"  said  Charles  Larkyns,  "  though  you  did  n't  see 
me,  I  chanced  to  see  you,  just  as  you  and  Verdant  had 


184  LITTLE   MR.    BOUNCER 

turned  out  of  Holyvvell  Street;  and  I 'm  perfectly  sure 
that  you  were  then  on  a  mouse-colour;  and  this  is  a 
bay." 

"A  bay!"  echoed  Mr.  Bouncer;  "why  where  are 
your  eyes,  old  boy?  there  must  be  some  defect  of 
vision.  This  is  the  mouse-coloured  hack.  What '11  you 
bet?  a  bottle  of  blacking?  " 

"  I  could  lay  you  any  odds  that  this  is  certainly  a 
bay,"  said  Charles  Larkyns. 

"  Now,  Giglamps,  you  shall  decide !  "  said  Mr.  Boun 
cer,  who  was  riding  between  the  other  two.  "  Is  this  a 
bay  or  a  mouse-colour?  " 

"  Oh,  it  is  undoubtedly  a  mouse-colour !  "  said  Ver 
dant,  judicially;  as  though  he  was  an  authority  on  all 
that  related  to  horses. 

"  Well !  "  cried  Charles  Larkyns,  "  then  all  I  can  say 
is,  I  never  saw  a  mouse-coloured  before  !  " 

"But,  did  you  ever  see  one  behind?"  asked  little  Mr. 
Bouncer,  as  he  took  his  hack  a  few  paces  in  advance, 
and  then  slowly  turned  him  round,  in  such  a  way  that 
the  clipped  and  undipped  sides  were  distinctly  seen,  and 
the  subject  of  the  dispute  was  at  once  made  clear. 
Charles  Larkyns  declared  that  he  would  write  a  parody  on 
the  fables  of  "  The  Chameleon  "  and  "  The  Knights  and 
the  Shield."  It  was  evident  that  there  could  be  two  sides 
to  every  question,  including  that  of  a  horse's  colour. 

Turning  over  this  circumstance  in  his  mind,  little  Mr. 
Bouncer  rapidly  made  his  way  to  the  Barham  Station. 
Intelligence  had  been  received  that  the  line  was  now 
cleared,  and  the  train  for  London  was  expected  every 
minute.  He  went  to  the  sliding  panel  in  the  wooden 
screen,  where,  as  in  a  frame,  he  saw  the  head  and  shoul 
ders  of  the  youthful  and  unwholesome-looking  ticket- 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  185 

taker,  whose  aspect  had  suggested  his  living  upon  pickles. 
Then  he  released  Huz  and  Buz  from  their  detention  in 
the  lamp-and-grease  room,  and  refused,  on  their,  and 
his  own,  behalf,  the  proffer  of  more  mutton-pies  and 
ginger-beer  from  the  peripatetic  refreshment-room. 
Then  the  delayed  train  came,  screaming  through  the 
deep  cutting,  and  pulled  up  at  the  Barham  platform, 
where  Huz  and  Buz  were  hastily  thrust  into  the  guard's 
van,  and  Mr.  Bouncer  was,  as  speedily,  hurried  into  a 
carriage,  half  filled  with  ladies  and  children,  in  whose 
company  he  was,  of  course,  deprived  of  the  solace  of  a 
smoke.  This,  however,  did  not  affect  his  safe  arrival  in 
London ;  and,  in  due  course,  he  found  himself  landed  at 
"  the  little  village,"  and,  as  he  held  Huz  and  Buz  by  their 
chain,  replying  to  the  porter's  question,  "  'Ansom  or 
four-wheel,  sir?  " 


1 86 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

LITTLE  MR.   BOUNCER  IS  TAKEN  CAPTIVE  BY  THE 
FRENCH. 

AB  No.  7542,  a  four- 
wheeler,  rattled 
through  the  London 
streets,  and  passing 
Covent  Garden  Mar 
ket,  set  down  Mr. 
Bouncer  and  Huz  and 
Buz  at  the  Old  Hum- 
mums.  The  little 
gentleman  always  pa 
tronised  this  hotel 
when  he  visited  town 

unaccompanied  by  his  mother  and  sister;  but,  when 
they  were  with  him,  they  all  stayed  at  Morley's  —  the 
Old  Hummums,  for  some  reason,  declining  to  lodge 
ladies  within  its  comfortable  walls,  and,  therefore,  neces 
sitating  the  taking  of  Mr.  Bouncer's  women-kind  to 
other  quarters.  Huz  and  Buz  were  far  more  trouble 
some  fellow-travellers  than  were  Mrs.  and  Miss  Bouncer, 
for  they  demanded  a  great  deal  of  thought  and  attention 
as  to  their  board  and  lodging;  and,  when  in  strange 
quarters,  they  howled  so  pertinaciously  and  dismally, 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN.  187 

that  they  constituted  themselves  into  a  gigantic  nuisance 
that  could  not  be  tolerated  over  a  second  night's  stay, 
without  a  demand  being  made  from  the  sufferers  for  the 
intervention  of  the  police.  Mr.  Bouncer,  however,  was 
enabled  to  make  such  arrangements  for  the  lodgment  of 
his  dogs  that  there  seemed  a  reasonable  hope  that  the 
sleep  of  the  sojourners  in  the  Old  Hummums  would  not, 
on  that  night,  be  disturbed  by  the  discordant  howlings 
of  Huz  and  Buz. 

After  luncheon,  Mr.  Bouncer  thought  that  he  would 
make  a  call  upon  Messrs.  Stump  and  Rowdy.  They 
were  the  individuals  who,  according  to  the  little  gentle 
man's  own  language,  had  got  all  his  tin  or  property 
until  he  came  of  age,  and  only  let  him  have  money  at 
certain  times,  because  it  was  tied  up,  as  they  facetiously 
termed  it ;  though,  why  they  had  tied  it  up,  and  where 
they  had  tied  it  up,  Mr.  Bouncer  had  no  more  idea  than 
had  the  two  dogs  that  he  had  left  tied  up  in  the  little 
yard  at  the  rear  of  the  Old  Hummums.  But,  he  now 
desired  to  extract  some  "  tin  "  from  these  gentlemen  — 
his  purse,  at  the  end  of  the  Oxford  summer  term,  having 
shrunk  to  the  smallest  dimensions ;  a  circumstance  by 
no  means  peculiar  to  Mr.  Bouncer.  It,  therefore,  became 
necessary  for  him  to  work  the  tin-mine,  and  to  extract 
the  highest  possible  sum  from  his  purse-bearers. 

When  he  had  started  on  his  way  to  Stump  and 
Rowdy's,  it  occurred  to  him  that  his  half-cropped  head 
of  hair  might  present  an  appearance  that  would  be,  to 
say  the  least,  peculiar.  In  fact,  he  wondered  what  effect 
it  had  already  produced  upon  the  waiters  at  the  Old 
Hummums,  and  upon  the  stately  old  lady  who  presided 
over  the  bar.  He,  therefore,  decided  to  turn  into  the 
nearest  hairdresser's  shop,  and  there  to  obtain  the  com- 


1 88  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

pletion  of  that  tonsorial  process  that  had  been  com 
menced  by  Mr.  Quickfall  at  Barham.  When  he  came  to 
this  resolution,  he  was  in  the  near  neighbourhood  of 
Leicester  Square ;  and,  if  he  had  troubled  himself  to 
think  twice  on  the  subject,  he  might  have  concluded 
that  he  should  infallibly  enter  the  shop  of  a  foreigner. 
Such  was  the  case.  Passing  into  a  hairdresser's  shop, 
bright  with  gilding  and  mirrors  —  neat,  clean,  and 
polished,  tasteful  and  elegant  in  all  its  appointments, 
and,  in  a  word,  an  utter  contrast  to  the  poky  and  dirty 
"  spacious  hair-cutting  saloon  "  of  the  Barham  barber, 
Mr.  Bouncer  found  himself  in  the  presence  of  the  pro 
prietor  of  the  establishment,  who  was  so  decidedly 
French,  that,  as  was  soon  apparent,  he  had  not  picked 
up  sufficient  English  to  enable  him  to  converse  with 
such  a  true-born  Briton  as  was  Mr.  Bouncer. 

It  was  that  little  gentleman's  misfortune,  rather  than 
his  fault,  that,  although  he  had  been  taught  Greek  and 
Latin,  both  at  school  and  college,  he  had  never  been 
instructed  in  the  tongue  spoken  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Channel.  Perhaps,  the  knowledge  of  French  was  ex 
pected  to  be  developed  spontaneously,  and  to  come  in 
the  course  of  nature,  like  the  growth  of  whiskers ;  but, 
as  yet,  Nature  had  neither  favoured  Mr.  Bouncer  with 
whiskers  nor  the  capacity  to  speak  French.  Therefore, 
he  was  only  able  to  make  signs  to  this  second  of  the 
brace  of  barbers  who  chanced  to  be  his  tonsors  on  that 
day,  and  to  take  a  seat  and  point  to  his  hair,  and  say,  in 
pigeon-English  that  he  fancied  would  be  intelligible  to 
the  Frenchman  —  "  De  hair  —  cut  —  sivoo  play  ?  " 
Little  Mr.  Bouncer  was  rather  pleased  at  being  able  to 
produce  this  genuine  fragment  of  French. 

Probably  (very  probably!)  he   did  not   give  it   the 


AND   HIS  FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN.  189 

genuine  Parisian  accent,  and  the  proprietor  of  the 
establishment  may  have  at  once  discerned  that  he  was 
an  insular  personage  who  was  not  conversant  with  the 
language  of  grace  and  civilisation ;  for,  he  replied,  in 
the  very  best  English  that  he  could  produce  for  the 
occasion,  "  De  har?  var  goot!  "  Then  he  tucked  him 
up  in  a  wrapper,  and,  as  he  briskly  combed  out  his  hair, 
said,  "  From  de  contree?  ha,  ha  !  jusso  !  "  Mr.  Bouncer 
felt  inclined  to  further  air  his  little  stock  of  French  by 
answering,  "  We,  Mossoo  !  "  but  he  timely  reflected  that 
this  display  of  knowledge  might  plunge  him  into  collo 
quial  difficulties  out  of  which  the  mossoo  would  alone 
rise  triumphant ;  and,  therefore,  as  he  felt  that  he  would 
be  unable  to  frame  a  reply  to  further  remarks,  he 
thought  it  best  to  grunt  out  a  monosyllabic  "  Yes !  " 
and  to  wonder  within  himself  —  whatever  will  the 
Mossoo  think  of  Mr.  Quickfall's  haircutting? 

Mossoo  had  relapsed  into  silence,  and,  perhaps  as  a 
token  that  he  had  no  desire  to  force  his  customer  into 
an  unwished-for  conversation,  had  politely  placed  in  his 
hands  a  newspaper,  wherewith  he  might  beguile  himself 
during  the  tedium  of  the  haircutting.  It  was  a  copy  of 
the  "  Journal  des  Debats  "  and,  to  Mr.  Bouncer,  it  might 
as  well  have  been  a  page  of  Chinese,  or  a  sheet  of 
cuneiform  inscriptions. 

If,  before  entering  the  shop,  he  could  but  have  glanced 
at  a  book  of  French  and  English  conversation,  he  might, 
by  its  aid,  have  been  able  to  say  to  the  hairdresser, 
with  an  approximate  imitation  of  his  own  language  — 

"  I  wish  my  hair  cut.  I  wish  it  cut  short.  I  wish  it  cut 
not  too  short.  I  wish  it  left  long  behind.  I  wish  it  left  short 
behind.  I  wish  the  curls  over  the  ears  to  be  preserved.  I 
wish  it  to  be  parted  on  the  left  side.  I  wish  it  to  be  parted 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

on  the  right  side.  I  wish  it  to  be  parted  at  the  back.  I 
wish  it  not  to  be  parted  at  the  back.  I  wish  the  whiskers 
to  be  trimmed.  I  wish  the  whiskers  not  to  be  touched. 
I  wish  you  to  shampoo  me.  I  do  not  wish  you  to  sham 
poo  me.  You  may  put  some  grease  to  my  hair.  I 
desire  that  you  do  not  put  any  wash  to  my  head.  I  hope 
your  brushes  are  clean.  Have  you  a  clean  comb?  Can 
you  supply  me  with  cosmetics,  fancy-soaps,  tooth 
brushes,  bandoline,  pomades,  hair-oil,  combs,  hair-pins, 
curling-tongs,  hair-brushes,  shaving-cream,  razors,  scent, 
and  articles  for  the  toilette?" 

But,  Mr.  Bouncer  was  not  provided  with  a  copy  of 
such  a  work  as  this  —  which,  it  maybe  presumed,  would 
be  published  by  the  Society  for  the  Confusion  of  Use 
less  Knowledge,  and,  therefore,  he  was  cut  off  from  the 
possibility  of  chattering  to  the  hairdresser  in  his  native 
French —  as  pronounced  at  Stratford-at-Bowe  — which, 
perhaps,  was  not  of  much  consequence ;  for,  unless  the 
hairdresser  had  replied  in  the  words,  and  with  the  accent, 
set  down  for  him  in  the  Guide,  Mr.  Bouncer  would  have 
been  left  all  abroad  in  the  conversation. 

As  it  was,  both  he  and  Mossoo  kept  silence ;  and,  as 
he  held  the  "Journal"  of  an  unknown  tongue  in  his 
hands,  he  could  not  but  reflect  how  very  unlike  this 
Parisian  hairdresser  of  "  the  little  village "  was  to  the 
barber  of  Barham. 

French  taste  reigned  around  him,  and  French  sights 
and  sounds  met  his  ears  and  eyes. 

A  few  hours  since  he  was  in  Mr.  Quickfall's  unmistak 
ably  English  shop  at  Barham,  and  now  he  might  have 
been  in  the  heart  of  Paris  for  all  that  he  could  see  or 
hear  to  the  contrary. 

A  young  and  fashionably  dressed  woman  was  standing 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT  GREEN. 


191 


on  the  other  side  of  the  brightly  polished  counter,  who 
was  evidently  Mossoo's  wife ;  at  any  rate,  he  called  her 
"  Therese,"  and  she  addressed  him  as  "  Auguste." 


To  this  elegant  lady  there  entered  a  sprucely  attired 
gentleman,  who,  with  much  gesticulation  and  shoulder- 
shrugging,  engaged  her,  over  the  counter,  in  a  lively 


IQ2  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

conversation  in  French,  the  while  he  purchased  some 
thing  "  pour  la  toilette." 

To  all  this  "jabber"  —  as  he  was  disposed  linguisti 
cally  to  pronounce  it  —  Mr.  Bouncer  listened  as  in  a 
dream,  and  as  though  he  were  in  a  foreign  land,  and  not 
in  the  midst  of  the  great  roaring  Babel  that  he  had 
figuratively  termed  "  the  little  village." 

He  sat,  tucked  up  in  his  wrapper,  with  the  French 
unreadable  newspaper  spread  out  over  his  knees,  while 
the  silent  perruquier  worked  vigorously  at  his  hair,  with 
a  couple  of  brushes,  almost  dancing  round  him,  in  a 
rapid  movement,  very  different  to  the  slow,  ponderous 
motion  and  tedious  loquacity  of  Mr.  Quickfall,  of 
Barham. 

"  Of  the  brace  of  barbers  that  I  have  bagged  to-day," 
thought  Mr.  Bouncer,  "  give  me  Mossoo." 

Then  he  heard  Madame  calling  "  Alphonse !  Al- 
phonse !  "  and  Mr.  Bouncer  thought  to  himself,  "  this 
Alphonse  is,  doubtless,  an  assistant,  who  will  enter  all 
grimace  and  smirk." 

But  a  patter  of  little  feet  upon  the  floor  soon  showed 
him  that  "Alphonse"  was  a  small,  white,  quaintly 
cropped  poodle,  who  at  once  trotted  up  to  Mr.  Bouncer, 
and  looked  knowingly  in  his  face,  apparently  seeing, 
with  an  intelligent  glance,  that  his  master's  customer 
was  a  friend  to  dogs. 


AND   HIS  FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN. 


193 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

LITTLE   MR.    BOUNCER  DEPARTS  FROM   MOSSOO'S    IN 
COMPANY  WITH   ALPHONSE. 


regarding 

the  quaint- looking 
poodle,  who  answered 
to  the  name  of  "  Al- 
phonse,"  and  who  had 
trotted  up  to  him  with 
so  much  confident 
friendliness,  Mr.  Boun 
cer  thought  that,  if  he 
only  knew  enough  of 
the  French  language, 
he  would  venture  to 
make  a  bid  for  this 
funny  specimen  of  the 
canine  species  — whose 
nature  was  so  im 
proved  (?)  by  art  — 
and  would  take  it  home  with  him  as  a  present  to  his 
sister,  and  as  a  possible  companion  to  Huz  and  Buz 
during  the  months  of  the  Long  Vacation. 

He  wondered  what  his  own  two  dogs,  with  their  sturdy 
English  breed  and  manners,  would  have  to  say  to  such 

13 


194  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

a  funny  little  foreigner;  and  he  thought  that  it  might 
prove  a  great  joke  to  introduce  Alphonse  to  Huz  and 
Buz.  It  appeared,  moreover,  that  Alphonse  was  a 
poodle  of  intelligence  as  well  as  friendliness ;  for  he  sat 
up  on  his  hind  legs  before  Mr.  Bouncer,  wagged  his 
tail,  cocked  his  head  knowingly  on  one  side,  and  was 
evidently  prepared,  on  the  slightest  invitation,  to  display 
all  the  tricks  that  he  had  acquired.  But  a  few  words 
from  his  master,  informing  Alphonse  that  he  was  a 
nuisance,  a  pig,  and  a  camel  for  thus  intruding  himself 
upon  a  strange  gentleman,  had  the  immediate  effect  of 
depressing  that  sagacious  animal's  spirits,  and  bringing 
him  once  again  to  his  normal  position.  So,  Alphonse, 
resuming  the  use  of  his  four  legs,  trotted  round  the  coun 
ter  to  Madame,  who  talked  to  him  in  her  native  tongue. 
Mr.  Bouncer  was  very  much  struck  with  this  circum 
stance.  The  poodle  knew  French ;  and  he  himself,  was 
ignoraiit  of  that  language  !  Was  this  to  be  accepted  as 
a  sarcasm  on  the  curriculum  of  education  that  obtained 
at  the  schools  and  colleges  of  his  native  land?  Mr. 
Bouncer  merely  gave  this  question  a  fleeting  thought, 
and  then  dismissed  it  from  his  mind.  Yet,  the  fact  of 
the  canine  intelligence  of  Alphonse  appeared  to  him  to 
surpass  the  case  of  Sterne's  Sentimental  Traveller,  who, 
on  first  landing  on  French  ground,  was  so  much  aston 
ished  to  find  that  even  little  common  children  could 
speak  French.  Albert  Smith,  too,  in  his  "  Overland 
Mail "  entertainment,  confessed  that  the  same  thought 
had  passed  through  his  own  mind ;  and  that  he  was  un 
able  to  repress  a  feeling  of  surprise  at  hearing  the  peas 
ant  children  fluently  conversing  in  a  language  that  we, 
in  England,  commonly  associated  with  ideas  of  refine 
ment  and  education.  Such  a  circumstance  is,  indeed,  a 


AND    HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  195 

continued  source  of  wonderment  to  the  average  British 
tourist 

But,  to  Mr.  Bouncer's  mind,  the  present  instance  was 
far  more  striking  than  the  case  of  the  travelled  Briton 
who,  for  the  first  time,  hears  French  prattled  by  illiterate 
children. 

Here  was  a  dog  who  could  understand  the  language 
spoken  by  a  Parisian,  and  who,  in  that  respect,  was  in 
advance  of  Mr.  Bouncer  in  intelligence.  If  he  made  a 
bid  for  Alphonse,  should  he  be  able  to  instruct  that 
quaint-looking  poodle  in  the  English  tongue,  and  to 
talk-  to  him  much  in  the  same  way  that  he  spoke  his 
mind,  and  gave  his  orders  to  Huz  and  Buz?  Then  it 
occurred  to  him,  that  his  sister  Fanny  could  speak 
French,  and  that  she  would  be  able,  if  needful,  to  address 
Alphonse  in  his  native  tongue.  He  determined,  if  it 
were  possible,  to  purchase  the  poodle,  and  to  take  it 
home  with  him,  as  a  present  to  his  sister. 

Monsieur  Auguste  removed  the  wrapper  from  Mr. 
Bouncer,  and,  by  significant  gestures,  explained  to  him 
that  the  operation  of  haircutting  was  at  an  end,  and 
bade  him  regard  himself  in  the  mirror  that  surmounted 
a  small  marble,  set  upon  a  gilt  bracket.  Mr.  Bouncer, 
accordingly,  laid  down  the  unperused  "Journal  des 
Debats,"  and  advanced  to  the  mirror.  There  he  was 
confronted  by  a  reflection  in  which  he  had  some  little 
difficulty  in  recognizing  himself.  His  hair  had  been 
cropped  quite  short  all  over  the  head,  and  parted, 
severely,  in  the  middle,  from  the  nape  of  his  neck, 
straight  over  the  crown,  to  the  forehead.  Monsieur 
stood  behind  him,  evidently  regarding  his  work  with 
considerable  satisfaction,  and  accepting  it  as  a  triumph 
of  his  art.  He  had  transformed  the  appearance  of  the 


196  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

young  gentleman  "  from  de  contree "  to  that  of  the 
civilised  dweller  in  the  gayest  city  in  Europe.  Monsieur 
was  an  artist,  and  not  a  barbarian  like  the  barber  of 
Barham. 

The  first  thought  of  Mr.  Bouncer,  as  he  gazed  upon 
the  mirrored  reflection,  was,  "  Well !  Mossoo  has  been 
and  gone  and  done  it,  and  no  mistake !  it  is  a  regular 
Newgate  crop  !  "  —  an  idea  that  would  have  scandalised 
the  professor  of  the  scissors.  It  was,  therefore,  quite  as 
well  that  the  little  gentleman  kept  his  thoughts  to  him 
self.  The  deed  was  done,  and  he  could  not  undo  it. 
His  hair  was  cropped ;  and  not  all  the  hair  restoratives 
in  Mossoo's  shop  could  make  it  grow  again,  with  a 
mustard-and-cress  celerity,  so  that  it  might  resume  its 
usual  length  and  appearance  before  he  presented  him 
self  to  the  admiring  gaze  of  his  mother  and  sister.  He 
must  make  the  best  of  a  bad  bargain ;  so,  by  panto 
mimic  action,  he  signified  to  Mossoo  that  he  approved 
of  his  work,  and  he  held  out  to  him  half  a  crown,  in 
order  that  he  might  give  him  what  change  he  thought 
proper. 

Then  he  proceeded  to  the  dog-dealing  business  that 
he  had  in  view;  and,  in  order  to  make  himself  more 
intelligible,  framed  his  question  in  broken  English  — 
"  How  much  you  sell  little  dog,  eh?"  while  Alphonse 
frisked  about,  and  stood  on  his  hind  legs,  and  went 
through  all  his  little  performances,  as  though  he  would 
say — See  what  a  clever  dog  I  am,  and  don't  insult 
my  feelings  by  offering  a  small  sum  for  a  poodle  of 
intellect. 

It  is  not,  by  any  means,  an  easy  matter  to  negotiate  a 
transaction,  when  the  terms  of  the  bargain  have  to  be 
debated  in  broken  English,  greatly  assisted,  it  is  true,  by 


AND   HIS   FRIEND  VERDANT   GREEN.  197 

expressive  pantomime,  but  damped  in  intelligibility  by 
a  strong  infusion  of  a  language  that  is  utterly  unknown 
to  one  of  the  contracting  parties.  It  was  evident  to  Mr. 
Bouncer,  that  Madame  was  protesting  to  Auguste  that 
she  should  be  desolated  by  the  loss  of  her  cherished 
Alphonse ;  and  it  was  equally  evident  to  him  —  more, 
however,  by  gesture  than  by  words  —  that  Monsieur 
was  expostulating  with  his  charming  Therese,  and  de 
monstrating  to  her,  with  voluble  eloquence,  that  the 
young  man  from  the  country  would  amply  compensate 
them  for  the  loss  of  a  troublesome  pig  of  a  dog. 
Eventually,  Mossoo  gained  the  day;  gold  triumphed 
over  affection ;  and  Mr.  Bouncer  was  made  aware  that 
the  small  French  poodle  could  become  his  property,  in 
exchange  for  the  sovereigns  that  he  had  laid  upon  the 
counter.  Madame  caught  up  Alphonse,  and  embraced 
him  with  effusion,  while  Mr.  Bouncer  discreetly  turned 
his  head  and  placed  his  hat  upon  it ;  whereupon,  in  con 
sequence  of  the  close  cropping  that  he  had  undergone, 
it  slipped  down  to  his  eyes. 

Hallo  !  thought  the  little  gentleman  ;  Mossoo 's  mowed 
me  so  short  that  my  tile's  too  big  for  my  head.  It's  a 
regular  case  of  Box  and  Cox ;  and  I  might  exclaim  with 
Mr.  Cox,  the  journeyman  hatter  —  "I  Ve  half  a  mind  to 
register  an  oath  that  I  '11  never  have  my  hair  cut  again  ! 
I  look  as  if  I  had  just  been  cropped  for  the  militia ;  and 
I  was  particularly  emphatic  in  my  instructions  to  the 
hairdresser  only  to  cut  the  ends  off.  He  must  have 
thought  I  meant  the  other  ends  !  "  Mossoo  has  evidently 
cut  the  other  ends ;  and,  like  Mr.  Cox,  my  hat  that  fitted 
me  quite  tight  before,  now  slips  over  my  eyes;  but, 
unlike  Mr.  Cox,  I  have  not  got  two  or  three  other  hats; 
so,  I  shall  have  to  buy  a  new  one. 


198  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

This  incident  diverted  Madame's  attention,  and  she 
released  Alphonse  in  order  to  stuff  some  cotton-wool 
inside  the  lining  of  Mr.  Bouncer's  hat,  who  thought,  as 
he  put  it  on,  "  As  Cox  said,  it  wabbles  about  rather  less, 
and  I  can  manage  to  keep  it  on  my  head."  Then  he 
called  a  cab,  and  bade  adieu  to  Madame,  who  delicately 
wiped  away  a  tear,  as  she  bestowed  a  parting  kiss  on  the 
little  white  poodle.  Mossoo  politely  handed  Alphonse 
into  the  cab,  and  Mr.  Bouncer  drove  back  to  the  Old 
Hummums,  to  place  his  new  purchase  in  safe  quarters, 
apart  from  Huz  and  Buz. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT  GREEN. 


199 


CHAPTER   THE  LAST. 

LITTLE  MR.  BOUNCER   RETURNS  TO  THE   HOME  OF   HIS 
ANCESTORS. 

™.  OONLIGHT 

shed  its  silvery 
lustre  over  the 
fair   landscape 
in  the  midst  of 
which  stood 
the   large  and 
com  for  table 
old    house, 
known       as 
Gay's      Court, 
the    home    of 
Mr.     Bouncer 
and  his  ances 
tors    for    many    generations. 
The     cold  beams    fell    upon 
the  village   church,  softening 
its  hoar  austerity,  and, 

Leaving  that  beautiful  which  still 
was  so ; 

though  this  Byronic  quotation  could  scarcely  be  con 
tinued, 


200  LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 

And  making  that  which  was  not, 

as  regarded  the  grotesque  gurgoyles ;  for,  no  natural  or 
artificial  light  could  ever  make  such  stony  monsters 
beautiful ;  and  a  bewildered  owl,  coming  suddenly  upon 
one  of  them,  might  have  dropped  its  prey  out  of  its 
claws,  from  sheer  alarm. 

The  moonbeams  also  penetrated  the  little  yard  at  the 
rear  of  the  Old  Hummums,  where  Huz  and  Buz  had 
been  housed  for  the  night,  and  where  Alphonse  was 
bewailing  his  separation  from  Madame  in  a  lugubrious 
French  recitative,  to  which  Huz  and  Buz  added  an 
English  chorus,  by  way  of  sympathy. 

If  their  united  voices  —  and,  as  Mrs.  Gamp  said, 
"  their  howls  was  organs  "  —  kept  any  one  awake,  it  was 
certainly  not  their  master,  who  slept  in  the  front  of  the 
hotel,  and  whose  sound  slumbers  were  not  even  disturbed 
by  the  rumble  of  the  early  market-carts  that  brought  the 
treasures  of  the  garden  and  orchard  to  Covent  Garden 
Market. 

Mr.  Bouncer  bought  a  new  hat,  that  fitted  his  cropped 
head  somewhat  better  than  did  his  old  one ;  he  also 
restored  the  parting  of  his  hair  to  its  usual  place,  and, 
as  much  as  was  possible  under  impossible  circumstances, 
brushed  his  hair  to  make  it  assume  its  ordinary  appear 
ance.  He  also  called  upon  Messrs.  Stump  and  Rowdy 
on  that  important  matter  which  he  designated  as  "fork 
ing  out  tin :  "  and,  from  the  little  gentleman's  pleased 
appearance  at  the  end  of  the  interview,  there  was  reason 
to  believe  that  the  "  tin  "  had  been  forked  out  in  a  highly 
satisfactory  manner. 

He  set  out  for  home  the  next  day,  accompanied  by 
Alphonse  and  Huz  and  Buz,  to  whom  he  had  explained 
that  the  queer-looking  little  French  poodle  was  intended 


AND    HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  2OI 

as  a  present  to  his  sister,  and  would  not  in  any  way 
supplant  them  in  his  own  affections. 

The  Great  Western  carried  him  quickly  by  Reading 
and  on  to  Swindon ;  and,  as  he  journeyed,  and  thought 
of  the  brace  of  barbers  under  whose  hands  he  had  placed 
himself,  Mr.  Bouncer  was  not  only  reminded  of  the 
incident  of  his  half-clipped  horse,  but  also  of  an 
other  circumstance  that  had  recently  come  within  his 
knowledge.  It  was  this : 

One  of  the  Brazenfacemen,  Kelly  by  name,  but  usually 
known  either  by  the  sobriquet  of  "  The  Wild  Irishman  " 
or  the  shorter  name  of  "  Paddy,"  had  driven  over  to 
Woodstock,  and  had  there  met  with  a  "  Maudlin"  Hall 
man  named  Blatherwyck,  who  was  in  a  very  maudlin 
state,  and  far  from  sober.  Now,  this  Blatherwyck  was 
not  a  very  popular  man  in  his  College,  being  far  from 
agreeable  in  his  manners  and  distinguished  for  nothing 
in  particular,  unless  it  was  for  a  pair  of  large  bushy 
whiskers  of  which  he  was  exceedingly  vain,  and  to  the 
curling  of  which  he  was  believed  to  devote  much  of  his 
mind  and  leisure  hours.  His  whiskers,  moreover,  had 
earned  for  him  the  cognomen  of  "  Esau."  When  Paddy 
found  that  Esau  was  not  able  to  take  due  care  of  himself, 
he  put  him  in  his  own  cart,  and  drove  him  back  to 
Oxford.  With  the  assistance  of  men  of  his  own  College, 
Blatherwyck  was  put  to  bed ;  when  it  suddenly  occurred 
to  one  of  the  party  that  it  would  be  a  great  lark  to  shave 
off  one  of  Esau's  pet  whiskers.  This  was  accordingly 
done,  and  the  slumberer  was  left  to  sleep  off  the  effect  of 
his  potations. 

Meanwhile,  his  father,  who  was  a  country  rector,  had 
come  up  to  Oxford  for  the  Commemoration,  and  had 
called,  late  in  the  evening,  at  his  son's  rooms ;  but,  not 


2O2  LITTLE   MR    BOUNCER 

finding  him  in,  had  gone  back  to  the  Star.  The  first 
thing  in  the  morning  the  elder  Mr.  Blatherwyck  returned 
to  his  son's  rooms,  with  the  intention  of  having  breakfast 
with  him. 

He  found  the  breakfast  already  laid  in  the  sitting- 
room,  and,  hearing  a  snore  from  the  bed-room,  walked 
in  and  saw  his  son  asleep  in  the  bed,  with  his  whiskerless 
cheek  uppermost. 

Now,  as  he  knew  that  his  son  possessed  a  remarkably 
fine  pair  of  whiskers,  it  was  at  once  evident  to  him  that 
the  individual  who  was  snoring  in  bed  in  the  dimly-lighted 
room  was  not  his  first-born,  and  that  he,  Mr.  Blatherwyck, 
must  have  made  a  mistake,  and  had  entered  the  rooms 
of  a  stranger. 

He,  therefore,  at  once  beat  a  retreat,  and  went  down 
into  the  Quad,  where  he  met  a  scout,  to  whom  he  po 
litely  said,  "  Will  you  be  good  enough  to  direct  me  to 
Mr.  Blatherwyck's  rooms  ?  "  "  The  first  pair  to  the  left, 
sir,"  replied  the  scout,  pointing  to  the  staircase.  "  But 
I  have  just  come  from  there,"  said  the  other,  "  and  they 
are  not  my  son's  rooms."  "  They  are  Mr.  Blatherwyck's 
rooms,  sir,"  replied  the  scout,  "  and  I  took  his  breakfast 
there  not  a  quarter  of  an  hour  ago.  He  was  in  bed.  I 
think  he  had  been  making  hisself  pleasant  last  night. 
You  '11  find  them  all  right,  sir —  first  pair  to  the  left." 

"  Very  odd ! "  thought  the  country  rector,  as  he 
walked  back  to  the  rooms,  and  again  heard  the  snoring 
of  the  slumberer.  He  picked  up  several  books,  and,  in 
each  of  them,  saw  his  son's  name.  In  various  parts  of 
the  room  he  also  recognized  articles  that  he  knew  be 
longed  to  his  son.  But  the  gentleman  who  was  snoring 
in  bed  could  not  be  his  son,  for  there  was  no  whisker 
on  his  upturned  cheek.  Some  other  man  must  have 


AND    HIS   FRIEND    VERDANT   GREEN.  2O3 

got  into  his  son's  bed !  He  would  go  and  wake  up  the 
intruder,  and  ask  him  if  Mr.  Blatherwyck  was  coming  to 
breakfast. 

With  this  intent  he  went  to  the  bed,  and  gave  its 
occupant  a  hearty  shake.  To  his  great  surprise,  the 
roused  slumberer  turned  round  his  head,  and  displayed 
one  well  known  whisker,  and  the  features  of  his  son. 
The  son's  question,  "  Hallo,  Governor !  where  did  you 
spring  from?"  was  answered  by  the  father's  question, 
"Why,  Tom!  where 's  your  other  whisker?"  "My 
other  what?"  "Whisker!" 

The  unhappy  undergraduate  placed  his  hand  to  his 
cheek,  and  felt,  with  a  bitter  pang,  that  it  was  denuded 
of  its  hirsute  attraction.  Then  he  sprang  from  his  bed, 
and  rushed  to  the  looking-glass,  and  there  saw  the 
peculiar  figure  that  was  presented  to  his  view. 

"  It 's  that  wild  Irishman  !  "  he  cried,  as  he  vowed 
vengeance  on  the  perpetrator  of  the  deed. 

"  Make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  Tom,  and  tell  me  how  it 
all  happened,"  said  his  father. 

So,  poor  Esau  made  a  clean  breast  of  it,  and  told  his 
father  everything  —  what  he  had  done  at  Woodstock, 
and  how  Kelly  had  driven  him  back  to  College,  and  put 
him  to  bed. 

"  Let  it  be  a  warning  to  you,  Tom,  never  to  get  tipsy 
again,"  said  his  father.  "  If  you  acquire  tippling  habits, 
you  will  lose  what  will  be  worth  more  to  you  than  a 
whisker."  The  son  promised  amendment,  and  they  sat 
down  to  breakfast ;  after  which,  Blatherwyck  shaved  off 
his  other  pet  whisker,  and  appeared  at  the  Commem 
oration  festivities,  looking  so  altered  that  his  friends 
scarcely  recognized  him.  It  was  but  a  sorry  consola 
tion  to  assure  him  that,  before  the  end  of  the  Long 


204 


LITTLE   MR.   BOUNCER 


Vacation,  his  whiskers  would  have  grown  again,  and 
would  be  as  fascinating  as  ever.  As  for  Paddy,  he  dis 
owned  the  deed,  and  it  never  could  be  proved  against 
him. 


Little  Mr.  Bouncer  thought  of  this  incident  as  he  was 
whirled  towards  his  home,  and  wondered  whether  his 
own  cropped  head  of  hair  would  grow  as  quickly  as 
Blatherwyck's  whiskers. 


AND   HIS   FRIEND   VERDANT   GREEN.  205 

On  from  Swindon,  the  train  hurried  him  to  Glouces 
ter;  then  Ross  was  reached,  and  at  Hereford  he  had 
come  to  the  termination  of  his  railway  journey. 

There,  according  to  his  instructions,  his  groom  was 
in  waiting,  with  a  saddle-horse  and  the  Whitechapel  cart. 
The  luggage  and  three  dogs  were  placed  in  the  latter ; 
Mr.  Bouncer  mounted  the  former,  and  galloped  away  to 
Gay's  Court,  where  his  mother  and  sister  were  delighted 
to  see  him,  and  where  he  once  again  found  himself  in 
the  home  of  his  ancestors. 

Under  what  more  favourable  circumstances  could  we 
leave  the  little  gentleman? 

Ladies  and  gentlemen  !  Mr.  Bouncer  makes  his  best 
bow  to  you,  and  thanks  you  for  having  tolerated  his 
society.  He  has  been  well  pleased  to  meet  you,  and 
hopes  that  you  also  may  have  experienced  some  little 
pleasure  in  meeting  him.  And  now  he  must  say  "Good 
bye  !  "  having  got  to 


THE  END. 


TALES    OF    COLLEGE    LIFE. 


PREFACE. 


THESE  "  TALES  OF  COLLEGE  LIFE  "  were  written  at 
various  times  during  the  last  six  years,  and  were  pub 
lished,  piece-meal,  in  various  serials.  They  have  been 
revised  and  collected,  and  are  here  brought  before  the 
public  in  a  cheap  form,  with  the  hope  that  they  will  not 
prove  an  unacceptable  addition  to  that  light  and  pleasant 
food  which  abler  hands  than  mine  have  prepared  for  the 
mental  banquet  of  those  countless  guests,  who  daily  sit 
down  at  the  well-supplied  table  of  Literature. 

May,  1856. 


THE 

FOLLOWING   PAGES 

Sffertionatelp 

TO 

MY    BROTHER, 
T.  W.   B. 


OR,   MISTAKEN   IDENTITY. 


It  's  a  wise  father  that  knows  his  own  son. 

WALKER'S  APOTHEGMS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE   SICK    MAN   IN   OXFORD. 

"    A   RE  you  tzgerthis  morning,  Sir?  "  asked  the  Scout. 

lx       "  ^ger?  why,  of  course  I  am  !     Don't  I  look 
ceger?  "  answered  his  master. 

"Well " 

"  Well  ?  but  it  is  n't  well !  it 's  ceger  !  " 

"  Well  —  I  don't  know,  Sir,"  replied  the  Scout,  who 
(like  Truth)  was  not  to  be  driven  from  his  well ;  "  at 
least,  I  did  iff  know;  but,  in  course,  I  knows  now  that 
you  is  ceger" 

"  In  course  you  does,"  replied  his  master.  "  So,  post 
the  ceger  till  further  notice.  And  —  here,  Thomas  !  tell 
the  cook,  if  he  can't  devil  kidneys  better  than  this,  he  'd 
better  give  up  his  profession,  and  go  to  the  d — ,  that  is 
to  say,  diggins." 

"  Yessir !  "  said  the  Scout,  who  would  have  made  the 
same  answer,  if  his  master  —  or  rather,  one  of  his  mas 
ters,  for  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  had  but  a  share  in  the 


214  TALES   OF   COLLEGE    LIFE. 

ownership  of  the  faithful  Thomas  —  had  directed  him  to 
convey  his  compliments    to  the  Vice-Chancellor,   and 
would   feel    obliged    by  the  information    whether    his 
maternal  relative  had  yet  disposed  of  her  mangle :  - 
"  yessir  !  "     Exit  Scout,  leaving  his  master  solus. 

Mr.  Percival  Wylde  was  seated  in  his  easiest  easy- 
chair,  in  his  comfortable  rooms  in  the  fine  old  College 
of  St.  Boniface,  Oxford,  over  a  well-garnished  breakfast- 
table,  to  which  an  Apicius,  or  even  an  Alderman,  might 
not  have  disdained  to  sit  down.  And  Mr.  Percival 
Wylde  was  making  the  viands  disappear  in  a  way  which 
seemed  to  demonstrate  that  Mr.  P.  W.  was  in  the  enjoy 
ment  of  the  rudest  health  ;  and  this,  notwithstanding  the 
fact  above  alluded  to,  that,  on  that  very  morning,  there 
would  be  sent  in  to  the  proper  authorities  an  "  yEger," 
or  document  to  the  effect  that  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  was 
prevented  attending  Chapels,  Lectures,  and  other  Uni 
versity  duties,  in  consequence  of  severe  indisposition. 
A  shrewd  observer,  on  contemplating  Mr.  Percival 
Wylde's  healthy  countenance,  and  vigorous  assaults  on 
the  breakfast  fare,  might,  from  these  trifling-  circum 
stances,  have  drawn  the  deduction,  that  the  young  gen 
tleman's  "  indisposition  "  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than 
an  indisposition,  or  unwillingness,  to  subject  himself  to 
the  fatiguing  routine  of  collegiate  duties ;  and  that  he 
was  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  wens  sana  in  corpore  sano. 
Nevertheless,  he  was  eeger  in  the  sight  of  Dons  and 
Tutors ;  and  his  mantelpiece  was  furnished  with  three 
half-emptied  physic  bottles  in  support  of  the  assertion 
that  he  was  on  the  sick  list. 

As  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  concluded  his  breakfast  with 
a  draught  of  Buttery  ale  (they  are  famed  for  their  beer 
at  St.  Boniface),  and  proceeded  to  fill  a  short  clay  pipe 


OR,   MISTAKEN   IDENTITY.  215 

from  a  tobacco-box  that  stood  beside  a  bottle  labelled 
"  Two  tablespoonsful  to  be  taken  every  three  hours 
until  the  fever  abates,"  he  cast  his  eyes  upon  the  reflec 
tion  in  the  mirror  placed  over  the  mantelpiece;  and, 
half-vocally,  half-mentally,  addressed  the  following  obser 
vations  to  the  individual  before  him :  "  You  are  looking 
your  best,  this  morning,  Sir !  I  never  saw  you  look 
brighter  or  handsomer.  You  will  spoil  your  complexion 
if  you  keep  to  your  rooms  all  day :  you  will  expire  with 
ennui  before  night  comes ;  your  own  society  ain't  par 
ticularly  captivating ;  you  had  better  give  the  Dons  the 
slip,  and  take  a  run  into  the  country  —  Or,  why  should  n't 
you  run  up  to  town,  and  steal  a  look  at  Fanny  Douglas? 
She  has  been  in  Wilton  Crescent  these  three  days,  and, 
of  course,  is  dying  to  see  you.  What  if,  as  Dick  Swivel- 
ler  says,  the  old  min  is  not  friendly,  and  your  governor 
wants  you  to  marry  Wilhelmina?  are  there  not  two 
people  to  be  consulted  on  this  point ;  and  don't  you  and 
Fanny  love  one  another  all  the  more  because  your 
engagement  is  opposed?  It  will  do  you  good,  Sir,  to 
get  away  and  see  her :  there  are  heaps  of  time,  and  you 
can  be  back  before  Gates.  What  is  the  good  of  posting 
an  ceger,  if  you  are  not  to  make  use  of  it?  What, 
indeed !  " 

„  And  here,  Mr.  Percival  Wylde,  having  filled  his  pipe, 
sat  himself  down  to  smoke  it,  and  digest  his  thoughts ; 
the  which  proceeding  was  complacently  regarded  by  his 
Skye-terrier  "  Mac,"  who,  seated  upon  the  rug,  alter 
nately  winked  at  his  master,  and  blinked  at  the  fire,  from 
under  his  shaggy  eyebrows. 

By  the  time  that  the  pipe  was  smoked  out,  the 
smoker's  mind  appeared  to  be  fully  made  up ;  for  Mr. 
Percival  Wylde  sprang  from  his  chair,  and  exclaimed, 


2l6  TALES    OF   COLLEGE  LIFE. 

"  Fanny !  you  have  gained  the  day.  What,  ho !  my 
kingdom  for  a  '  Bradshaw  ' !  "  And  hunting  about  among 
a  cttbris  of  newspapers,  railway-books,  puffing  tradesmen's 
circulars,  odd  numbers  of  magazines,  and  other  speci 
mens  of  that  miscellaneous  literature  which  spreads, 
nettle-fashion,  in  all  the  available  corners  of  a  bachelor's 
apartment,  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  at  length  lighted  upon 
the  desired  periodical,  and,  by  this,  put  a  stop  to  the 
premature  expectations  and  groundless  excitement  of 
"  Mac,"  who,  with  eyes  of  the  keenest  speculation,  had 
been  following  his  master's  search,  evidently  anticipating 
that  it  would  terminate  in  rats  —  if  not  cats. 

But  it  ended  in  a  less  lively  subject;  to  wit — (not 
that  there  was  any  wit  in  it) — "Bradshaw."  "Now, 
let  me  see  !  "  murmured  the  undergraduate,  as  he  turned 
over  the  leaves  of  the  bewildering  book,  and  consulted 
its  still  more  bewildering  index: 

"  Oxford,  W.  S.  10 ;  Gt.  W.  53-57;  L.  and  N.  W.  75  ; 
O.  W.  and  W.  —  the  Old  Worse  and  Worse,  —  77  ;  Shr. 
and  Ches.  86.  Mid.  Remarkably  explicit  and  clear, 
certainly.  Oh,  here  it  is !  Down-train  —  London. 
Express  leaves  at  five  fifteen  ;  Bletchley,  six  twenty-five ; 
all  right  so  far  !  only,  this  blackguard  Junction  —  Oh,  I 
see !  departs  from  Bletchley  at  six-twenty-five ;  arrives 
at  Oxford  —  why,  confound  it !  it  never  arrives  at  Oxford 
at  all !  Oh !  here 's  another  train  at  seven  fifteen ; 
reaches  Oxford  at  eight  thirty.  That's  the  ticket!  that 
will  just  land  me  in  time  for  Gates.  So,  to  Town  I  go, 
and  have  a  chat  with  Fanny.  When  a  man  's  ceger, 
there  's  nothing  like  going  to  London  in  search  of  first- 
rate  advice.  After  all,  Love 's  the  best  physician  !  " 

Having  arrived  at  this  comforting  decision,  Mr.  Per 
cival  Wylde  was  not  long  in  putting  it  in  execution. 


;   OR,   MISTAKEN  IDENTITY. 

Watching  his  opportunity,  he  ran  across  Quad.,  and 
sped  out  of  the  College  gates  unseen  by  other  than 
friendly  eyes.  Then,  stealing  down  the  lane  which  runs 
at  the  back  of  St.  Boniface  —  in  which  lane  many  a  hack 
had  been  waiting  to  convey  him  to  the  cover  side,  —  by 
divers  paths  he  reached  the  Railway  Station,  and  ascer 
tained,  to  his  great  satisfaction,  that  no  hostile  Tutor 
was  bound  by  the  same  train  to  London. 

When  the  Great  Metropolis  —  or  "  the  little  village," 
as  Mr.  Wylde  and  his  companions  facetiously  termed  it 
-  had  been  duly  reached,  and  Mr.  Percival  Wylde's 
inner  man  had  been  duly  refreshed,  that  young  gentle 
man  forthwith  took  his  way,  on  foot,  to  Wilton  Crescent, 
anticipating  the  pleasure  which  Miss  Fanny  Douglas 
would  doubtless  feel  at  his  unexpected  visit,  and  already 
experiencing  some  of  the  delight  which  he  himself  would 
(of  course!)  entertain  at  his  forthcoming  interview  with 
her — the  adorable  one!  Filled  with  these  agreeable 
expectations,  he  walked,  "  as  upon  air,"  to  the  Victoria 
Gate,  and  crossed  the  Park  in  the  direction  of  the  two 
towers  of  Babel  that  flank  the  bestagged  pillars  of  the 
Albert  Gate.  But,  as  he  was  trampling  the  rough  gravel 
of  Rotten  Row,  the  sight  of  a  female  equestrian,  the 
tournure  of  whose  form  and  face  resembled  that  of  the 
incomparable  Fanny,  carried  him  on  further  than  he  had 
purposed ;  and  he  had  followed  the  horsewoman  as  far 
as  the  Achilles  Statue  before  he  discovered  that  he  had 
been  in  pursuit  of  a  perfect  stranger. 

Upon  what  trifles  do  the  hinges  of  our  life  turn !  If 
Mr.  Percival  Wylde  had  not  caught  sight  of  this  young 
lady  equestrian  whom  he  had  never  seen  before,  and 
never  wished  to  see  again,  he  would  have  gone  through 
the  Albert  Gate  to  Wilton  Crescent,  would  have  had  an 


2l8  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

interview  with  the  beloved  Fanny,  and  would  altogether 
have  avoided  that  impending  fate  into  the  threatening 
jaws  of  which  he  was  now  thrusting  himself. 

If  he  had  not  done  so  and  so,  then  so  and  so  might 
have  happened,  and  so  and  so  would  not  have  happened. 
Exactly !  And  so  it  might  be  argued  of  all  the  great 
events  of  ancient  and  modern  times.  If  Cleopatra  had 
squinted,  the  fortunes  of  the  world  would  have  been 
changed ;  if  Helen  had  been  otherwise  than  beau 
tiful,  the  fate  of  nations  would  have  been  different. 
"  Verily,"  as  honest  Touchstone  saith,  "  there  is  much 
virtue  in  If" 

Mr.  Percival  Wylde,  then,  to  make  up  for  the  lost 
time,  walked  briskly  by  Apsley  House,  and  turned  down 
Hyde  Park  Corner  towards  Wilton  Crescent  —  the  goal 
of  his  expectations.  "  How  surprised  dear  Fanny  will 
be  to  see  me!"  he  thought;  "but  an  interview  is 
doubly  valued  when  it  has  been  least  expected."  And 
here,  the  young  gentleman's  thoughts  were  compelled 
to  flow  in  a  very  different  channel,  and  to  acknowledge 
that  there  must  be  an  exception  to  every  rule,  whether 
it  prove  that  rule,  or  no ;  for,  to  his  amazement,  his 
roving  eye  lighted  upon  the  portly  figure  of  a  middle- 
aged  gentleman,  who  was  slowly  toiling  up  the  slight 
ascent  opposite  the  St.  George's  Hospital,  and  was 
advancing  towards  him  with  an  ill-boding  look  of  min 
gled  surprise  and  indignation. 


OR,   MISTAKEN    IDENTITY.  219 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE   SICK   MAN  AT  HYDE   PARK   CORNER. 

MR.  PERCIVAL  WYLDE'S  first  impulse  upon  perceiving 
the  advancing  foe,  was  to  wheel  round,  and  dart  through 
Mr.  Burton's  screen  to  screen  himself,  as  best  he  might, 
in  the  mazes  of  Hyde  Park.  His  second  impulse  was 
to  hail  a  passing  cab,  leap  into  it,  and  bid  the  cabby 
drive  to  Jericho.  His  third  impulse  was  to  meet  the 
difficulty  in  the  face,  —  take  the  bull  by  the  horns  — 
beard  the  lion  in  his  den,  and  the  Douglas  in  his  hall, 
—  and  trust  to  his  own  boldness  and  readiness  to  bring 
him  off  the  victor. 

Mr.  Percival  Wylde  decided  ta  act  upon  impulse  the 
third. 

He  did  this  almost  instantaneously ;  and,  without 
altering  his  pace,  or  betraying  by  his  features  his  sense 
of  the  disagreeable  nature  of  the  approaching  rencontre, 
he  advanced  to  meet  the  adversary.  As  he  did  so,  he 
rapidly  delivered  this  mental  soliloquy  :  "  The  Governor, 
by  all  that 's  blue !  What  on  earth  can  have  brought 
him  to  town?  I  thought  the  old  bird  was  safe  in  Shrop 
shire.  He  looks  uncommonly  black  at  seeing  me.  By 
Jove  !  I  have  done  it  now,  and  no  mistake  !  I  remem 
ber  now  !  there  was  that  letter  I  sent  him  the  day  before 
yesterday,  —  through  being  so  beastly  hard  up,  —  telling 
him  that  I  was  very  bad,  and  all  the  rest  of  it ;  and  ask 
ing  him  to  send  me  a  cheque  for  medical  fees,  and  all 
those  sort  of  things.  If  he 's  got  that  letter,  what  will  he 


22O  TALES   OF   COLLEGE  LIFE. 

say  to  meeting  me  here  !  He  's  rather  corky  at  the  best 
of  times;  what  will  he  be  now?  He  '11  see  directly  that 
I  'm  on  my  road  to  Fanny,  whom  he  hates  like  the  bad ; 
and  that  won't  improve  the  old  boy's  temper.  He  ex 
pects  one  to  stick  so  particularly  close  to  College,  that 
he  '11  be  no  end  riled  at  seeing  his  hopeful  play  truant  in 
this  fashion.  I  must  deny  myself  to  the  old  boy,  and 
stick  out  that  I  'm  somebody  else.  There  's  nothing  like 
impudence  !  and  I  flatter  myself  that  I  can  be  as  cool  as 
a  Covent-garden  full  of  cucumbers.  Now  for  it !  " 

By  this  time  "  the  Old  Boy "  had  advanced  with 
quickened  steps  and  eyes  of  wonder,  and  had  pulled 
himself  up  full  in  the  face  of  his  unfilial  son.  The  Old 
Boy  had  a  highly-coloured,  port-and-claret  countenance, 
the  radiant  hues  of  which  were  shown  off  to  the  greatest 
advantage  by  the  snowy  colour  (that  is  to  say,  if  white 
is  a  colour)  of  his  white  neck-handkerchief,  which 
appeared  to  have  been.wrapped  round  his  neck  a  count 
less  number  of  times,  after  an  antique  fashion.  The 
Old  Boy,  being  of  a  puffy,  apoplectic  habit  of  body, 
was  not  accustomed  to  ascend  gradients,  however  easy, 
without  a  certain  amount  of  stertorous  breathing,  that, 
for  a  time,  proved  a  slight  impediment  to  the  freedom 
of  conversation ;  and  thus,  when  he  encountered  his 
son,  he  could  only  gasp,  "Why — why!  Percie  !  "  and 
was  then  compelled  to  stop  short,  and  to  lay  his  hand 
upon  his  son's  arm  to  arrest  his  farther  progress. 

Mr.  Percival  VVylde  paused,  and  slightly  lifted  his 
eyebrows  with  an  air  of  well-bred  surprise. 

"  Why,  Percie  !  "  at  length  said  Mr.  Wylde,  senior,  as 
he  regained  his  breath,  without  losing  his  astonishment; 
"  why,  Percie!  what  in  the  name  of  fortune  brings  you 
here?" 


;   OR,    MISTAKEN   IDENTITY.  221 

Mr.  Percival  Wylde  gazed  calmly  on  his  interrogator, 
and,  without  betraying  himself  by  the  slightest  show  of 
confusion,  said,  in  a  careless,  drawling  tone,  "  You  have 
the  advantage  of  me,  Sir." 

"  The  what !  the  advantage !  the  doose,  Sir !  "  cried 
the  Old  Boy,  exploding  at  the  first  onset.  "  What  the 
doose  do  you  mean,  Sir,  about  the  advantage?  " 

"  Really,  Sir,"  replied  the  younger  one,  with  a  well- 
affected  air  of  astonishment,  "  I  can  only  repeat  that 
you  have  the  advantage  of  me." 

"  What !  "  cried  the  Old  Boy,  waxing  even  redder  in 
the  face,  and  hitting  his  stick  upon  the  pavement  after 
the  manner  of  irate  parents  and  guardians  on  the  stage ; 
"  what !  deny  your  own  father  !  mean  to  say  you  don't 
know  your  own  father !  " 

"  Father !  "  said  the  other,  with  a  slight  shadow  of 
polite  astonishment  in  his  tone ;  "  Father !  really,  Sir, 
I " 

"  What !  "  cried  the  Old  Boy,  "  not  own  your  own 
father?  I  suppose  you  '11  say  next  that  you  are  not  my 
son?" 

"  You  flatter  me,  Sir,  by  the  supposition  that  I  could 
be  the  offspring  of  so  remarkable  an  old  gentleman," 
was  the  cool  reply ;  "  but,  really,  I  must  confess  my  in 
ability  to  lay  claim  to  so  singular  a  parent." 

"  Why  !  you  —  you  -  "  stammered  the  Old  Boy, 
whose  rage  was  now  at  boiling  point;  "  but,  come,  Sir! 
no  more  nonsense !  Just  turn  your  steps,  and  come 
with  me  to  Morley's."  Mr.  Wylde,  it  must  be  remarked, 
en  passant,  patronised  this  Trafalgar-square  Hotel,  as  it 
was  in  convenient  neighbourhood  to  his  Club,  which 
was  at  the  opposite  corner  of  the  square. 

"  Excuse  me,  old  gentleman !  "  replied  his  son,  with 


222  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

undisturbed  nonchalance  ;  "  but  I  have  no  wish  to  go  to 
Morley's,  although  you  hold  out  to  me  the  tempting 
offer  of  your  agreeable  company.  My  way  lies  in  the 
opposite  direction." 

"  I  know  it  does,  Sir  !  "  cried  the  Old  Boy,  as  choleric 
as  Mr.  VVigan  in  "  The  Bengal  Tiger " :  "I  know  it 
does  !  I  knew  it,  Sir  —  knew  it  from  the  first !  From 
the  very  first  moment  that  I  set  eyes  on  you,  I  said, 
That  rascal 's  on  his  way  to  Wilton  Crescent." 

"  You  must  be  gifted  with  the  spirit  of  prophecy, 
though  not  of  politeness ;  for  I  am  on  my  way  to  Wilton 
Crescent,"  was  the  reply. 

The  Old  Boy  was  furious  at  this  frank  confession.  "  I 
knew  you  were !  "  he  cried;  "  I  knew  it !  and  did  n't  I 
forbid  you  making  love  to  her?  didn't  I  tell  you  that 
I  would  never  sanction  any  tomfoolery  of  love-making 
with  a  girl  that  won't  have  as  much  as  will  keep  her 
in  —  in  hair-oil,  by  Jove !  "  continued  the  Old  Boy, 
anxious  for  a  striking  example  in  his  statement  of  the 
presumptive  fortune  of  Miss  Fanny  Douglas.  "  Perhaps 
you  are  not  aware  where  I  am  just  come  from,  Mr. 
Percie?" 

"  In  the  first  place,  Sir,"  replied  the  son,  "  as  I  am 
personally  unknown  to  you,  I  cannot  see  why  you 
should  address  a  perfect  stranger  as  '  Mr.  Percie,'  al 
though  that  name  might,  perhaps,  do  as  well  as  any 
other.  But,  in  the  second  place,  Sir,  I  think  I  can  give 
a  very  shrewd  conjecture  as  to  the  place  from  which 
you  have  just  come,  —  namely,  the  Lunatic  Asylum ;  to 
which  place  I  should  advise  your  speedy  return.  You 
are  not  fit  to  be  trusted  without  a  keeper." 

Mr.  Percival  Wylde  said  this  with  perfect  gravity,  and 
with  the  air  of  pity  which  any  one  might  be  supposed 


yEGER  ;   OR,    MISTAKEN   IDENTITY.  223 

to  feel  towards  an  unfortunate  gentleman  ;  but  his  words 
angered  the  Old  Boy  above  all  bounds.  His  loud  tone 
of  voice,  his  thumpings  of  his  stick  upon  the  pavement, 
and  the  highly  dramatic  action  that  he  threw  into  the 
dialogue,  had  already  attracted  the  notice  of  many  of 
the  passers  by,  and  had  drawn  to  the  spot  more  than 
one  of  those  London  street-boys,  who  rise  up,  by  a 
species  of  magic,  wherever  there  is  an  exhibition  of  any 
thing  for  which  no  payment  is  demanded ;  and,  it  must 
be  confessed,  that  Mr.  Wylde  was  making  a  gratuitous 
exhibition  of  himself.  These  small  boys,  moreover, 
after  the  habits  of  their  species,  indulged  in  a  running 
commentary  on  the  passing  scene,  expressed  in  the 
common  vernacular,  and  modelled  on  the  Chorus  of  the 
ancient  Greek  drama.  As  may  be  imagined,  their 
varied  sallies  of  wit,  and  cutting  sarcasms,  were  not 
without  their  effect ;  and  their  observations  of  "  Draw  it 
mild,  old  un  !  "  "  Don't  bust  yourself!  "  "  You  '11  split 
yer  veskit,  guv'nor !  "  were,  to  Mr.  Wylde,  as  the  lash 
ings  of  the  tail  that  excite  the  lion  to  fury. 

"  Asylum  !  keeper  !  "  gasped  the  Old  Boy,  who  would 
have  roared,  if  his  shortness  of  breath  had  permitted 
him  to  make  so  much  noise ;  "  by  George,  Sir !  you  '11 
make  me  cut  you  off  with  a  shilling !  " 

"  He  says,"  explained  one  small  boy  to  another,  who 
had  just  arrived  upon  the  scene ;  "  he  says  that  he  cut 
off  with  a  bob.  The  old  gent 's  vun  o'  the  swell  mob." 
An  explanation  which  was  by  no  means  satisfactory  to 
Mr.  Wylde. 

"  Cut  me  off  with  a  shilling !  "  echoed  the  son ;  "really, 
Sir,  your  language  is  most  extraordinary.  But  you 
must  excuse  my  giving  my  attention  to  more  of  it,  as  I 
have  my  engagement  to  keep.  Allow  me  to  wish  you 


224  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

good  morning,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  thank  you  for 
your  diverting  society." 

This  was  more  than  Mr.  Wylde  could  bear.  Catching 
his  son  tightly  by  the  arm,  he  exclaimed,  "  Not  so  fast, 
Percie !  you  are  not  going  to  escape  me  in  this  way, 
without  giving  an  account  of  yourself;  and  explaining 
why  you  are  here  in  London,  going  to  see  a  person  you 
ought  not  to  see,  when  you  ought  to  be  ill  in  bed  in 
Oxford,  running  up  doctors'  bills,  which  you  expect  me 
to  pay,  and  send  you  cheques  for !  and  then  to  disown 
your  own  father,  and  —  and  —  by  George,  Sir  —  "  Mr. 
Wylde  paused  for  lack  of  breath,  not  for  lack  of  words. 

"  Hit  him  while  he  's  down !  "  cried  a  small  boy, 
probably  as  a  suggestion  to  Percie  to  take  an  unfair  ad 
vantage  of  his  parent,  the  while  he  was  in  his  gasping 
state  of  speechlessness. 

"  Pray  let  me  call  a  cab  for  you ;  you  are  getting  out 
rageous.  This  is  probably  the  time  for  one  of  your 
fits,"  said  Percie ;  and  with  an  air  of  kind  protection,  he 
put  his  arm  within  his  father's,  and  sought  to  lead  him 
to  the  neighbouring  cab-stand. 

"  By  George !  "  cried  the  Old  Boy,  as  he  recovered 
his  breath,  and  broke  from  his  son's  hold,  "  this  is  more 
than  I  can  bear !  to  be  disowned,  and  called  a  madman 
by  my  own  son — my  own  son,  Sir!  "  he  added  to  a 
passer-by  who  had  tarried  a  moment,  impelled  by  curi 
osity  to  listen  to  what  was  going  on  :  "  my  own  son,  Sir ! 
who  ought  to  be  at  Oxford,  and  ill  in  bed." 

"  My  eyes  !  ain't  that  a  whopper,  neither  !  "  remarked 
one  of  the  Chorus. 

"  111  in  bed,  Sir  !  "  continued  Mr.  Wylde,  "  and  writing 
to  me  for  cheques  for  doctors'  bills,  Sir !  and  then  denies 
himself,  Sir ;  and  talks  about  me  having  the  advantage, 


OR,   MISTAKEN   IDENTITY.  225 

—  although  he  confesses  to  being  on  his  way  to  Wilton 
Crescent     What  do  you  think  of  that,  Sir?" 

The  gentleman  to  whom  Mr.  Wylde  addressed  himself 
appeared  to  be  unable  or  unwilling  to  commit  himself 
to  a  reply,  not  having  seen  much  connexion  or  proba 
bility  in  Mr.  Wylde's  far-from-lucid  resume  ;  and  his 
suspicions  of  that  individual's  sanity  were  strengthened, 
by  the  explanation  which  Percie  gave  to  him  and  the 
other  bystanders,  in  the  abbreviated  style  of  Mr.  Alfred 
Jingle:  "Poor  man  —  touched  here  —  very  sad  —  sees 
a  likeness  —  thinks  I  'm  his  son  —  distressing  case  — 


very 


"  I  '11  tell  you  what,  Percie  !"  cried  the  Old  Boy;  "I  '11 
make  you  suffer  for  this  !  Disown  me,  and  call  me^a 
lunatic  !  by  Jove,  Sir,  I  '11  cut  you  off  with  less  than  a 
shilling!  Come  with  me  directly,  Sir;  or  never  expect 
me  to  own  you  again." 

"  This,"  said  a  small  boy,  in  the  didactic  manner  of 
Mr.  Robson.  in  the  pathetic  ballad  of  "Villikins  and  his 
Dinah,"  "  this  is  vot  that  brute  of  a  parient  hobserved 
to  the  hoffspring  of  his  haffections." 

"Really,  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Percival  Wylde,  "I  have 
endured  your  eccentricities  quite  long  enough,  and  it  is 
now  time  to  put  a  stop  to  them.  You  may,  perhaps,  be 
a  very  fine  fellow  down  in  your  own  part  of  the  country, 
and  accustomed  to  bully  labourers  and  swear  at  tramps  ; 
but  you  '11  find,  Sir,  that  this  conduct  won't  do  in 
London,  where  no  man  is  suffered  to  publicly  insult  or 
annoy  another  with  impunity.  If  every  eccentric  old 
gentleman  was  to  take  it  into  his  head  to  claim  any  one 
he  fancied  as  his  own  son,  and  was  permitted  to  indulge 
in  such  absurd  paternal  cravings,  young  men,  like  myself, 
would  not  be  able  to  walk  the  streets  in  safety,  so  long 

15 


226  TALES   OF  COLLEGE  LIFE. 

as  old  gentlemen  like  you  were  left  at  large.  If  you 
annoy  me  any  further,  I  shall  have  no  other  course  left 
than  to  give  you  in  charge  to  this  policeman."  And 
Percie  pointed  to  a  blue-coated  official  who  had  strolled 
(by  accident)  to  the  spot. 

"It's  all  stuff  and  nonsense!"  cried  the  Old  Boy, 
keeping  a  tight  hold  of  his  son's  arm :  "I'm  not  going 
to  be  cheated  out  of  my  own  eyesight  in  this  way,  and 
told  to  my  face  that  I  'm  a  madman,  and  not  the  father 
of  my  own  son  —  a  son  who  deceives  me,  and  imposes 
upon  me  with  his  sham  sickness  and  his  doctors'  bills ! 
But  I  'm  not  the  man  to  be  tricked  in  this  way  ;  so,  come 
along  with  me,  Sir !  I  insist  upon  it !  and  you  know 
very  well  that  I  keep  my  word,  and  am  not  to  be  trifled 
with." 

"  Vot  a  huncompromising  old  trump  !  "  observed  one 
of  the  Chorus. 

"  Since  you  compel  me  to  adopt  so  disagreeable  an 
expedient,  I  have  no  other  alternative  than  to  give  you 
in  charge :  "  and  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  beckoned  to  the 
blue-coated  official. 

"  Hook  it,  old  'un !  "  cried  a  kindly-disposed  small 
boy ;  "  hook  it !  the  Peeler 's  a-coming  !  " 

"Come,  Sir!"  said  the  Peeler:  "  I  think  you  'd  best 
not  trouble  this  gent,  but  move  on :  becos,  if  so  be  as 
he  hinsists  upon  it,  in  course  it  '11  be  my  dooty  to  take 
you  in  charge." 

"  But,"  expostulated  Mr.  Wylde,  "  he 's  my  own  son 
—  who  ought  to  be  at  Oxford,  ill  in  bed  —  my  own 
son ! " 

"  Ah,  Sir !  "  said  the  philosophic  Peeler,  "  you  see, 
there  is  /z#.rtonishing  likenesses  to  be  met  with  in  the 
world.  Sometimes  it  takes  a  wise  child  to  know  its  own 


^EGER;   OR,   MISTAKEN    IDENTITY.  22/ 

father,  and  sometimes  a  wise  father  ain't  able  to  know 
his  own  son.  We  sees  such  things  every  day,  bless 
you.  But  you  must  move  on,  Sir;  or  else  I  must  take 
you  in  charge  for  annoying  this  gent.  As  it  is,  you  're 
a  /iobstructin'  of  the  pavement." 

"  Ho,  Soosanner !  "  sang  one  of  the  Chorus,  as  a  con 
solation  for  the  sufferer;  "  Ho,  Soosanner,  don't  you 
cry  for  me !  yer  a  goin'  to  Hallerbarmer,  with  yer  banjo 
on  yer  knee  !  " 

"  I  have  no  more  time  to  lose,  Sir ! "  said  Mr.  Percival 
Wylde,  referring  to  his  watch:  "  it  is  already  past  the 
time  when  I  ought  to  have  been  in  Wilton  Crescent,"  — 
(the  Old  Boy  flinched  at  the  mention  of  this  locality), 
—  "  and  I  must  again  repeat,  that  if  you  persist  in  an 
noying  or  following  me  "  (for  I  had  better  be  on  the  safe 
side,  thought  Percie),  "  I  must  give  you  in  charge.  Hav 
ing  given  you  this  final  notice,  I  must  leave  you  to 
pursue  your  own  way." 

"  Very  well,  Sir!  "  roared  the  Old  Boy,  at  the  culmi 
nating  point  of  his  fury;  "  you  shall  suffer  for  this,  Sir ! 
I  '11  teach  you  what  it  is  to  impose  upon  me  with  your 
sham  sicknesses,  and  your  cheques  for  doctors'  bills  that 
you  never  had  !  I  '11  teach  you  what  it  is  to  disobey  me 
by  making  love  to  that  girl !  If  you  were  fifty  sons  and 
heirs,  I'd  cut  you  off  with  a  shilling — I  would,  by 
George!  I'll  give  you  a  lesson,  Sir!  I'll  go  up  to 
Oxford  at  once  and  have  you  expelled  the  place.  I 
will,  Sir,  by " 

"  Don't  swear,  Sir ! "  said  Mr.  Percival  Wylde,  with 
the  same  imperturbable  coolness  and  sangfroid  that  he 
had  maintained  throughout  the  conversation ;  "  Don't 
swear,  Sir,  I  beg  !  for  as  this  is  a  public  thoroughfare,  I 
shall  feel  it  my  duty,  as  a  member  of  society,  to  com- 


228  TALES  OF  COLLEGE   LIFE. 

plain   of  you,  and  have  you   fined  five  shillings,  as  a 
warning  for  the  future  !  " 

"  Ugh  !  "  was  all  that  old  Mr.  Wylde  ventured  to  growl 
in  reply:  and,  seeing  his  son  pursuing  his  way  to  Wilton 
Crescent,  he  strode  in  the  opposite  direction,  down  Pic 
cadilly,  surrounded  by  the  Chorus  of  small  boys,  singing 
"  Pop  goes  the  Weasel,"  turning  head  over  heels,  and 
making  the  most  liberal  offers  to  do  "  four  wheels  a 
ha'penny"  for  Mr.  Wylde's  instruction  and  amusement: 
offers  which  were  not  received  by  that  gentleman  with 
the  same  liberal  spirit  in  which  they  were  made. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  SICK  MAN  ON   HIS  ROAD  TO  THE  DOCTOR. 

MR.  PERCIVAL  WYLDE  experienced  otherwise  than 
agreeable  feelings  when  his  father  made  his  declaration 
of  visiting  Oxford ;  and  he  was  too  well  acquainted  with 
the  paternal  mode  of  decision  to  doubt  that  his  father 
would  practise  what  he  preached.  He  knew  very  well 
that  the  Old  Boy  would  at  once  take  the  rail  to  Oxford, 
and,  on  there  being  fully  certified  as  to  the  imposition 
practised  upon  him,  would  probably  cut  off  the  pecuniary 
supplies  from  his  hopeful  son,  even  if  he  did  not  proceed 
to  the  extremity  of  "  cutting  him  off  with  less  than  a 
shilling." 

Now,  as  this  proceeding,  even  in  its  mildest  form, 
would  be  anything  but  agreeable  to  a  young  gentleman 
who  had  freely  plunged  into  the  most  expensive  habits 
of  a  University  career,  the  thought  of  its  being  carried 


^EGER;   OR,   MISTAKEN   IDENTITY.  229 

into  execution  filled  Percie  with  alarm,  and  brought 
before  his  imagination  a  series  of  startling  pictures, 
executed  in  the  heaviest  mental  distemper,  in  which 
expelling  Dons  and  threatening  Duns  stood  forth  in 
sternest  colours.  He  saw  at  once  that  he  must  give  up 
his  cherished  plan  of  spending  the  best  part  of  the  day 
in  the  society  of  Miss  Fanny  Douglas,  and  must  betake 
himself  to  Oxford  with  all  expedition.  But  yet,  when 
he  reflected  that  he  was  but  a  few  hundred  yards  from 
the  abode  of  the  charmer,  and  that  the  Crescent  lay  not 
so  very  much  out  of  his  way  to  the  railway-station,  it 
was  more  than  the  weakness  of  poor  human  nature  could 
bear,  not  to  call  in  there  for  a  few  moments  en  route. 

"  It  will  never  pay  to  go  back  without  a  look  at 
Fanny,"  thought  Percie,  "  after  I  Ve  taken  all  this  trouble 
to  see  her.  I  must  manage  to  get  a  sight  of  her  by  her 
self,  and  to  keep  out  of  the  reach  of  the  rest ;  for  I  dare 
say  the  Old  Boy  will  be  making  inquiries  after  me,  and 
the  eclaircissement  might  be  awkward.  It  is  unfortunate 
enough  as  it  is ;  but  who  'd  have  thought  of  meeting  him 
at  Hyde-park  Corner  when  he  ought  to  have  been  safe  in 
Shropshire.  I  wish  now  I  had  n't  sent  for  that  doctor's 
cheque ;  but  the  game  had  done  once  before,  and  I 
thought  it  would  do  again ;  and  I  was  so  hard  up,  that 
I  did  n't  know  which  way  to  turn.  I  wish  Fanny  had 
got  something  like  a  fortune,  because  then  the  Old  Boy 
would  n't  cut  up  so  rough  about  her.  Her  governor 
goes  at  such  a  pace,  that  he  must  live  quite  up  to  his 
means ;  and  he  '11  scarcely  be  able  to  give  Fanny  a  sou, 
—  and  that  the  Old  Boy  knows  pretty  well.  Hinc  ill<z  la- 
chrymcz  :  hence  his  advocacy  of  Wilhelmina.  I  would  n't 
take  her  if  her  gingerbread  were  doubly  as  thick  in  gilt ! 
Dear  Fanny  is  worth  a  dozen  of  her.  I  must  go  and  see 


230  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

her.  It  would  certainly  be  awkward  if  the  Old  Boy  got 
to  Oxford  first,  and  found  out  my  absence.  I  know 
that  he  would  keep  his  word  about  me,  and  I  should  be 
cast  into  the  den  of  Duns.  I  should  have  no  money  — 
Fanny  would  only  have  her  father's  blessing ;  and  our 
marriage  would  be  out  of  the  question.  Yet  I  think  I 
shall  have  time  to  call  in  the  Crescent.  I  know  the  Old 
Boy's  habits  well  enough  to  make  me  feel  sure  that  he  '11 
go  and  pay  his  bill  at  Morley's  before  he  sets  out  for 
Oxford.  This  will  delay  him  some  time  ;  so  I  can  easily 
spare  a  few  minutes  for  Fanny,  and  reach  Oxford  by  an 
earlier  train  than  the  Old  Boy.  I  '11  risk  it.  As  I  'm 
an  ceger  man,  I  can't  do  better  than  pay  a  visit  to  the 
doctor  who  will  do  me  the  most  good." 

So  rapid  is  the  process  of  thought,  that,  to  arrive  at 
the  above  decision  was  a  far  quicker  thing  in  the  per 
formance  than  it  is  in  the  telling ;  and  Percie  had  jumped 
into  a  Hansom,  and  been  whirled  to  Wilton  Crescent, 
before  Mr.  Wylde,  senior,  had  reached  St.  James's 
Street. 

A  thundering  knock  and  a  rallying  ring  evoked  a 
canary-coloured  being,  who,  although  six  feet  in  his 
stockings,  and  blessed  with  undeniable  whiskers,  was 
yet  affable  and  benignant.  This  condescending  gentle 
man  knew  Percie  well,  and  had,  indeed,  been  moved  to 
extreme  affability  by  sundry  and  repeated  tips  admin 
istered  to  him  by  Percie,  both  in  town,  and  also  at  his 
(or,  at  least,  his  master's  —  which  was  the  same  thing) 
country-seat  in  Shropshire.  In  consequence  of  this 
monetary  relation  that  existed  between  them,  the  affable 
Canary  looked  with  the  eyes  of  encouragement  upon  the 
amatory  passion  displayed  by  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  for 
Miss  Fanny  Douglas,  and  fostered  it  in  a  variety  of 


OR,    MISTAKEN   IDENTITY.  231 

ways  —  such  as  the  transmission  of  billet-doux,  and  the 
retailing  to  Pinner,  the  maid,  of  various  anecdotes,  which 
served  to  place  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  in  a  favourable,  if 
not  heroic,  light.  These  fragments  of  biography  were 
collected  by  the  affable  Canary  from  his  friends  and 
neighbours  in  the  servants'-hall  of  Mr.  Wylde's  estab 
lishment  ;  and,  having  been  properly  spiced  and  sea 
soned  by  the  faithful  Pinner,  were  duly  served  up  for 
Miss  Fanny's  entertainment  during  the  several  courses 
of  that  young  lady's  toilette. 

As  the  young  gentleman's  love  was  encouraged  by  the 
young  lady's  mamma  and  papa  —  who  were  naturally 
anxious  to  secure  a  young  man  of  position  and  property 
for  their  almost  dowerless  daughter,  —  and  was  opposed 
by  Mr.  Wylde  alone,  and  that  solely  from  pecuniary 
motives, —  the  whole  band  of  Mr.  Douglas's  retainers 
headed  by  the  affable  Canary  and  the  faithful  Pinner 
(between  whom,  indeed,  there  were  certain  love  passages, 
that  led  them  to  a  sympathy  with  others  in  the  same  posi 
tion),  espoused  the  cause  of  the  young  lovers ;  and  did 
not,  as  touching  this  subject,  quarrel  with,  or  bite  their 
thumbs,  at  the  retainers  of  the  house  of  Wylde,  after  the 
fashion  of  the  Capulet  and  Montague  factions.  The 
affable  Canary,  indeed,  regarded  the  Juliet  of  his  house 
with  the  most  paternal  feelings,  speaking  of  her  to  his 
brother  retainers,  as  "  our  eldest  daughter  "  —  as  though 
she  were  a  species  of  joint-stock  property  —  and  receiv 
ing  her  Romeo,  and  ushering  him  into  her  presence,  with 
an  air  that  seemed  to  express,  "  I  give  my  consent  — 
take  her,  and  be  happy." 

On  the  present  occasion,  therefore,  the  affable  Canary 
not  only  felt  pleasure  at  opening  the  door  to  Romeo,  but 
was  also  enabled  to  divine  the  object  of  Romeo's  visit : 


232  TALES   OF   COLLEGE  LIFE. 

a  divination  far  more  readily  arrived  at  from  a  superficial 
study  of  the  visitor's  outward  man,  than  if  the  internal 
anatomy  of  the  victim  had  been  consulted. 

"  The  missis  and  master  have  just  druv  off  to  the 
Cristial  Palliss  at  Siddynam,  Sir,"  said  the  affable  Canary, 
in  reply  to  Romeo's  inquiry  as  to  who  was  at  home ; 
"  and  the  young  ladies  is  gone  a  hairin'  in  the  park,  with 
Mamselle  and  Pinner;  but  Miss  Fanny  is  at  'ome,  Sir, 
and  is  a  writin'  in  the  drawin'  room  by  'erself.  I  'ope  I 
see  you  well,  Sir." 

Quite  well,  thank  you,  Mr.  Affable  Canary,  although 
I  do  happen  to  be  s£ger,  so  take  up  my  card  to  Miss 
Douglas. 

And  the  affable  Canary  takes  a  piece  of  pasteboard 
imprinted  with  the  name  of  "  Mr.  Percival  Wylde ;  " 
and  that  young  gentleman,  after  desiring  the  Cabby  to 
wait  for  him,  trips  up  the  stairs,  softly  singing  a  carmen 
triumphale. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

PHYSICIAN  AND    PATIENT. 

THE  affable  Canary  had  not  deviated  from  the  truth 
when  he  told  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  that  Miss  Fanny 
Douglas  was  at  home,  alone,  and  in  the  back  drawing- 
room;  for,  there  she  was. 

She  was  seated  before  a  curly-legged,  lady-like  look 
ing  writing-table,  on  which  were  strewed,  in  picturesque 
disorder,  letters  answered  and  unanswered,  together  with 
the  snowy  sheets  that  were  yet  to  receive  the  / 


.<£GER;   OR,   MISTAKEN  IDENTITY.  233 

of  Miss  Fanny's  thoughts  and  fancies,  and  were  destined 
to  carry  to  divers  quarters  all  those  varied  sensations, 
and  paroxysms  of  confidence,  that  tear  the  breast  of  the 
feminine  letter-writer.  The  young  lady  appeared  to 
have  at  length  brought  to  an  end  a  painfully-becrossed 
epistolary  effusion ;  for  she  had  folded  up  a  letter  into 
its  envelope,  and  had  lighted  a  taper,  which  —  accord 
ing  to  that  truthful  imitation  of  nature  that  distinguishes 
the  generality  of"  Art-utilities,"  —  was  inserted  into  the 
upright  mouth  of  a  blue-bell,  obligingly  held  by  a 
Parian  Cupid,  who  was  already  encumbered  with  a  gilt 
quiver  and  a  sheaf  of  arrows ;  and  there  was  an  odour  as 
of  the  burning  of  scented  sealing-wax,  as  Percie  was 
ushered  into  the  room  by  the  affable  Canary. 

Fanny  was  so  engrossed  with  her  occupation,  that  she 
had  not  heard  the  footsteps  of  the  approaching  visitor 
—  muffled  as  they  were  by  the  moss-like  carpet  of  the 
front  drawing-room  —  and  she  was  not  aware  of  his 
entrance  until  the  words,  "  Mr.  Percival  Wylde,  Miss  !  " 
fell  gratefully  upon  her  startled  ear.  She  started  round 
as  the  affable  Canary  placed  Percie's  card  upon  the 
table,  and  ushered  its  late  proprietor  into  the  room ;  and, 
in  another  moment,  her  hand  was  clasped  in  that  of  her 
lover's.  Then  —  the  affable  Canary  having  discreetly 
closed  the  door — a  little  pantomimic  performance  was 
gone  through,  which,  though  brief,  was  doubtless  amus 
ing  and  satisfactory,  notwithstanding  that  it  was  accom 
panied  by  the  exclamations :  "  there  !  —  don't !  —  you 
rude  thing!  — suppose  some  one  should  come  in!  " 

"Why!  can  it  be  you?"  at  length  said  Miss  Fanny 
Douglas,  when  the  pantomime  had  been  brought  to  an 
end. 

"  Oh  dear,  no  !  "  replied  Percie ;   "  it  is  n't  me  !  it 's  a 


234  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

man  very  like  me.  Perhaps  it 's  my  wraith  —  like  the 
gentleman  who  so  inopportunely  appeared  to  Mrs.  Auld 
Robin  Gray.  'I  saw  my  Jamie's  wraith,  but  I  could 
not  think  it  he,  until '  —  etcetera  and  so  forth  !  " 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  Fanny,  laughing,  "  I  am  quite  in 
her  position,  for  I  can  scarcely  think  it  you.  It  is  only 
just  now  that  I  was  certified  of  the  fact  that  you  were, 
at  the  present  time,  some  seventy  miles  from  here." 

"  Yes  !  but  don't  you  remember  the  Corsican  Brothers  ? 
and  have  you  forgotten  that  never-to-be-forgotten  night 
of  happiness  when  we  went  to  the  Haymarket,  and  saw 
Blanche's  capital  burlesque,  and  heard  that  killing  imita 
tion  of  Charles  Kean  — 

'  /  am  his  spirit,  come  to  show  me  how 
He,  that  is,  /,  was  killed  to-morrow  —  now  ! ' 

Have  you  forgotten  that  puzzling  position  of  pronouns? 
There  are  queer  things  in  the  drama  of  life,  as  well  as  in 
that  of  the  stage ;  and  perhaps,  after  all,  I  am  not 
myself!  " 

"  Well !  if  it  is  you,"  laughed  Fanny,  "  I  hope  I  see 
you  well  —  as  people  say;  for  I  was  certainly  under  the 
delusion,  not  only  that  you  were  at  this  present  time  in 
Oxford,  but  that  you  were  very  ill  there." 

"  And  so  I  am,  my  dear  Fanny !  "  replied  Percie, 
with  mock  gravity;  "  so  I  am  —  very  ill  indeed  — tzger. 
But  my  ghost,  who  is  now  addressing  you,  is  pretty 
well,  thank  you." 

"  I  am  pleased  to  hear  it,  Mr.  Ghost,"  said  Miss 
Fanny;  "  for  your  Ghostship's  Papa  left  this  room  not 
half-an-hour  since,  after  giving  me  a  most  touching  and 
affecting  narrative  of  the  malady  under  which  your 
Ghostship  was  supposed  to  be  labouring;  and,"  con- 


OR,  MISTAKEN   IDENTITY.  235 

tinued  Fanny,  as  she  pointed  to  the  letter  she  had  been 
sealing,  "  I  had  even  been  giving  myself  the  trouble  to 
convey  to  you  my  condolence  on  your  serious  indis 
position.  It  seems  that  I  might  have  spared  myself 
such  useless  labour." 

"  Dear  me,  no !  "  said  the  Ghost ;  "  pray  give  me  the 
valuable  document,  and  I  will  see  that  it  is  duly  con 
veyed  to  Percival  Wilde,  Esquire,  who  is  now  pining  on 
his  Oxford  bed  of  sickness.  The  sight  thereof  will  be 
unto  him  as  the  sight  of  the  goddess  Hygeia,  and  will 
raise  him  from  his  <zger  couch  —  ceger,  my  dear 
Fanny,  being  a  Latin  word,  that  signifieth  sick,  ill,  or 
indisposed." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Ghost,  for  the  translation;  and, 
having  given  me  one  translation,  perhaps  you  will  favour 
me  with  the  explanation  of  another;  and  will  condescend 
to  explain  why  I  am  thus  so  unexpectedly  honoured 
with  the  translation  of  an  ceger  gentleman  from  Oxford 
to  London."  And  Miss  Fanny  puckered  up  her  eyes 
and  lips,  and  looked  unspeakably  roguish. 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  Fanny,"  replied  the  Ghost ; 
"  though  in  as  few  words  as  possible ;  for  my  time,  like 
your  own  sweet  self,  is  very  precious.  I  was  so  ill  —  at 
least,  not  ill,  but  ceger,  you  understand  —  that  I  found  I 
must  run  up  to  town  for  the  very  best  professional  advice 
on  my  case.  Now,  we  have  it  on  most  excellent  author 
ity,  that  the  best  Physician  is  a  certain  Doctor  Love  ;  so 
I  naturally  called  at  this  house,  where  I  knew  he  was  to 
be  found ;  and,  '  Here  we  are !  '  as  the  clown  says  in  the 
Pantomime  —  Physician  and  Patient.  The  Patient  hav 
ing  stated  his  case,  what  is  the  advice  of  my  Doctor 
Love?" 

"  That  you  immediately  go  back  to  Oxford,  Sir,  where 


236  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

you  know  you  ought  to  be  now,  you  naughty  boy !  " 
replied  the  Doctor. 

"  Is  that  your  advice?  "  asked  the  Patient. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  Thank  you,"  rejoined  the  Patient;  "  I  feel  indebted 
to  you.  There  is  Dr.  Love's  fee  !  "  and  the  Ghost  posi 
tively  seized  upon  the  young  lady,  and  kissed  her  !  — at 
least  he  appeared  to  kiss  her;  but  we  had  rather  not 
commit  ourselves  to  the  declaration  that  his  osculatory 
intentions  were  fully  carried  out. 

"  There,  Sir !  that  is  quite  enough !  I  did  not  ask 
you  to  pay  me  in  that  fashion !  "  said  Dr.  Love,  with  a 
quickened  breath,  and  a  heightened  flush  —  (so,  per 
haps,  after  all,  the  Ghost  did  kiss  the  young  lady  !)  "  It 
is  fortunate  for  you  that  you  did  not  meet  your  Papa 
here.  What  ever  would  he  say  if  he  knew  you  were  in 
London  —  much  more  in  Wilton  Crescent?  " 

"  Oh!  he  does  know  it,"  said  the  Ghost,  calmly;  "  I 
met  him  at  Hyde  Park  Corner,  and,  thinking  that  honesty 
was  the  best  policy,  I  told  him  that  I  was  on  my  way  to 
Wilton  Crescent." 

"  I  admire  your  boldness !  "  remarked  Doctor  Love. 
"  And  was  he  very  angry?  " 

"  Not  more  so  than  the  Old  Boy  usually  is  on  this 
subject,"  replied  the  Patient.  "  He  roared  me  '  an' 
't  were  any  nightingale.'  Ahem  !  Shakspeare  !  " 

"  But,"  asked  Doctor  Love,  "  was  he  not  horrified  to 
find  your  Ghostship  in  London,  when  he  thought  you 
were  lying  ill  in  Oxford?" 

"  Slightly  horrified,  and  fearfully  disgusted  !  "  replied 
the  Ghost.  "  But  then,  you  see,  my  dear  Fanny,  that  it 
was  not  me  that  he  met.  At  least,  he  would  have  it  that 
it  was  me.  But  it  must  have  been  some  one  very  like 


^EGER;   OR,   MISTAKEN   IDENTITY.  237 

me ;  for,  of  course,  it  could  not  be  me,  because  I  was,  at 
that  very  time,  keeping  an  czger  at  Oxford." 

"  Of  course  not!  but  explain  the  riddle,  Sir  Ghost!  " 
said  Doctor  Love. 

The  Ghost  did  so,  in  that  jerky,  Alfred  Jingle  style 
which  he  had  before  made  use  of  at  Hyde  Park  Corner; 
which  style  is  a  particularly  useful  one  when  you  want 
to  get  over  the  ground  quickly.  In  fact,  it  would  be 
very  advantageous  to  the  devourers  of  the  three-volume 
thirty-one-and-sixpence  class  of  romantic  novels,  if  the 
food  of  their  imagination  was  drest  up  in  this  literary 
short-bread  fashion,  for  it  would  save  them  the  con 
sumption  of  a  great  deal  of  unnecessary  indigestible 
matter. 

"  So  that 's  the  state  of  the  case,  my  dear  Fanny,"  said 
the  Ghost,  as  he  brought  his  rapid  narrative  to  a  con 
clusion.  "  And  now,  having  gained  my  point  in  seeing 
you,  and  having  been  considerably  refreshed  thereby, 
and  having  had  the  excellent  advice  of  Doctor  Love  on 
my  distressing  ceger  case,  I  must  be  off  as  quickly  as 
possible  to  Oxford,  before  the  Old  Boy  can  get  there." 

"  Decidedly  the  best  thing  you  can  do,  Sir,"  said 
Doctor  Love.  "  Don't  let  me  keep  you  another  minute ; 
but,  if  you  are  really  my  patient,  take  my  advice  and 

go-" 

"  And  with  your  advice  I  should  like  to  take  thee  !  as 
Lover  sings,  and  your  lover  says  —  eh,  Doctor  Love?  " 
said  the  patient,  who  appeared  to  be  in  a  humour  for 
composing  impromptu  parodies;  for  he  immediately 
added,  " '  My  cab  is  at  the  door,  And  my  bark  is  on  the 
sea,  But  before  I  go,  Astore !  I  've  a  double  kiss  for 
thee.'  And,"  continued  the  Ghost,  as  he  gave  the  young 
lady  a  practical  illustration  of  the  beauties  of  his  parody, 


238  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

"  don't  let  your  Mammy  or  Daddy,  or  any  one  else,  know 
of  this  visit  And,  pray  be  cautious,  my  dear  Fanny,  and 
don't  split ! " 

And,  with. this  final  injunction, — which  seemed  to 
intimate  that  there  was  some  danger  of  the  young  lady 
coming  to  an  untimely  end,  after  the  fashion  of  tight 
dresses  and  unseaworthy  vessels — the  Patient  warmly 
embraced  the  Physician  (so  great  was  his  gratitude!), 
and  the  Ghost  vanished. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE   PATIENT   SPELLS    PATIENCE. 

As  the  patient  left  the  room,  Doctor  Love  rang  the  bell ; 
and  the  affable  Canary,  obedient  to  its  summons,  paused 
in  his  perusal  of  an  exciting  narrative  of  a  "  Marriage  in 
High  Life,"  -  -  recorded,  for  the  instruction  and  amuse 
ment  of  mankind,  in  the  pages  of  the  "  Morning  Toast," 
—  and  slowly,  but  (of  course!)  gracefully,  proceeded  to 
place  himself  in  communication  with  the  gentle  spirit 
who  had  evoked  him  from  his  cell. 

As  drifting  straws  will  show  the  viewless  courses  of 
the  winds,  so  this  willingness  on  the  part  of  the  affable 
Canary  demonstrated  the  power  that  Miss  Fanny  exer 
cised  over  all  who  came  within  the  range  of  her  fascina 
tions.  For,  the  affable  Canary,  when  summoned  by 
Miss  Fanny's  ring,  had  just  reached  the  most  interesting 
and  exciting  part  of  the  marriage  narrative,  wherein  the 
Bride's  dress  was  described  in  language  that  would  have 
made  the  heart  of  a  milliner  thrill  with  ecstasy ;  and  it 


,  OR,   MISTAKEN  IDENTITY.  239 

was  only  some  strong  fascination  that  could  have  torn 
him  from  his  enthralling  occupation.  But,  in  Society, 
—  that  is  to  say,  in  the  world  of  Art,  —  as  in  the  world 
of  Nature,  we  meet  with  whirlpools  into  whose  depths 
people  are  sucked  irresistibly,  and  glide  round  and 
round  without  the  slightest  control  over  their  own  wills; 
and  it  is  not  improbable  but  that  the  affable  Canary,  — 
who  was  a  creature  of  impulse  as  well  as  of  affections, 
-  had  been  unconsciously  drawn  into  the  vortex  of  his 
young  mistress's  whirlpool  of  fascinations.  Yet,  be  that 
as  it  may,  at  her  summons,  "  he  stayed  not  for  brake, 
and  he  stopped  not  for  stone,"  —  he  did  not  pause  for  a 
second  or  third  ring,  but,  his  duty  (or  whatever  you 
prefer  to  call  it)  rising  superior  to  his  curiosity,  he 
threw  down  the  "  Morning  Toast,"  and  immediately 
responded  to  the  tintirmabular  call.  As  the  affable 
Canary  ascended  the  staircase,  he  encountered  Mr. 
Percival  Wylde  descending  from  his  consultation  with 
Doctor  Love  —  and,  as  appeared  from  his  countenance, 
already  greatly  relieved  by  the  Doctor's  prescription. 
Percie,  again  making  use  of  the  abbreviated  Alfred  Jin 
gle  style  of  address,  briefly  stated  to  the  affable  Canary 
the  urgent  necessity  there  was  for  perfect  secrecy  on  the 
subject  of  the  present  visit,  if  Mr.  Wylde,  senior,  should 
take  it  into  his  head  to  institute  inquiries  thereon. 

"  Master  and  Missis  bein'  at  Siddynam ;  and  Mam- 
selle  and  Pinner  still  hout  with  the  young  ladies,  no  one 
but  Miss  Fanny  and  me,  Sir,  will  be  aweer  of  your  call," 
said  the  affable  Canary,  summing  up  the  evidence  as  to 
the  feasibility  of  putting  in  a  claim  for  that  possibility 
of  being  in  two  places  at  once,  which  old  Mr.  Weller 
designated  by  the  name  of  "  a  alleybi,"  and  so  strongly 
urged  upon  his  son  as  the  only  safe  outlet  for  his  master, 


240  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

in  the  labyrinthine  and  memorable  trial  of  "  Bardell 
against  Pickwick."  "  And  you  may  rest  heasy,  Sir," 
continued  the  Canary,  "  that  /'//  be  as  mum  as  a  hoy- 
ster !  "  and  the  faithful  and  affable  creature  closed  his 
fingers  upon  the  two  half-crowns  delicately  slipped  into 
his  hand. 

"  In  these  sort  of  cases,"  thought  Percie,  "  and  with 
these  kind  of  people,  a  little  palm-oil  is  most  efficacious 
in  lubricating  the  conscience,  and  enabling  it  to  slip 
easily  into  the  track  we  have  marked  out  for  it.  And 
Fidelity  will  hold  true  at  five  shillings  until  it  be 
tempted  with  ten." 

But  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  had  no  further  time  to  bestow 
on  reflections  of  a  philosophic  nature,  when  it  was  the 
moment  for  prompt  action.  He  waved  an  adieu  to  Miss 
Fanny,  who  was  watching  him  from  the  drawing-room 
window  —  and  jumping  into  the  Hansom,  ordered  the 
driver  to  take  him  to  the  Great  Western,  as  though  his 
life  depended  on  his  speed. 

This  injunction,  as  it  happened,  was  well  nigh  being 
fulfilled  to  the  very  letter;  for,  as  the  driver  made  a 
sharp  turn  round  the  corner  of  Hyde-park-street,  the 
cab  came  into  collision  with  the  van  of  a  West  End 
laundress,  which  was  proceeding  on  its  homeward  route 
laden  with  the  heavy  baggage  it  had  collected  in  the 
Square.  Now,  although  Hansoms  are  warranted  to 
"  keep  this  side  uppermost,"  and  to  preserve  their  equi 
librium  under  the  most  trying  circumstances,  yet  they 
are  not  exempt  from  those  ills  which  cabs  are  heir  to, 
when  brought  into  sudden  and  violent  contact  with 
vehicles  of  larger  growth  and  heavier  burden ;  and  it 
therefore  happened,  that  not  only  was  a  shaft  of  the  cab 
broken,  but  that  one  of  its  little  windows  was  burglar- 


^EGER;   OR,  MISTAKEN   IDENTITY.  24! 

iously  entered  by  the  pole  of  the  heavy  van ;  and,  by 
these  several  means,  the  Hansom  was  brought  to  a  stand 
still,  arid  its  horse  to  a  downfall.  It  was  fortunate  for 
Mr.  Percival  Wylde,  that  he  was  aware  of  the  collision, 
and  instinctively  sprang  from  his  seat;  for,  by  this 
action,  he  avoided  the  blow  on  the  head  or  poke  in  the 
face,  that  the  van-pole  would  undoubtedly  have  given 
him;  in  which  case,  his  adventures  would,  probably, 
have  been  brought  to  an  unexpected  termination,  or 
would,  at  any  rate,  have  been  deprived  of  the  chance  of 
being  faithfully  illustrated  with  a  handsome  frontispiece. 
"  The  more  haste,  the  worst  speed !  "  thought  Percie, 
as  he  gave  the  Cabby  five  shillings  and  his  card,  and 
left  that  gentleman  busily  engaged  in  endeavouring  to 
raise  his  fallen  steed  from  the  ground,  and  in  heaping  on 
the  van-driver's  head  denunciations  composed  of 

Filthy  Conjunctions,  and  dissolute  Nouns 

And  Particles  pick'd  from  the  kennels  of  towns, 

With  Irregular  Verbs  for  irregular  jobs, 

Chiefly  Active  in  rows  and  mobs, 

Picking  Possessive  Pronouns'  fobs  ; 

And  Interjections  as  bad  as  a  blight, 

Or  an  Eastern  blast,  to  the  blood  and  the  sight. 

"  '  The  more  haste,  the  worst  speed.'  What  says  the 
proverb  ?  '  The  hasty  man  eats  soup  with  a  fork ! ' 
When  a  man  is  in  a  hurry,  he 's  sure  to  be  delayed. 
There  's  not  another  cab  in  sight ;  so  it 's  fortunate  that 
I  'm  not  bothered  with  luggage,  and  that  I  'm  not  far 
from  the  Station.  Three  minutes  will  do  it !  Fanny 
did  not  occupy  more  than  ten  minutes,  and  I  shall  be 
in  good  time  to  beat  the  Old  Boy.  I  know  his  habits 

1  Hood's  "  Tale  of  a  Trumpet." 
16 


242  TALES   OF  COLLEGE  LIFE. 

well  ;  and  he  won't  clear  from  Morley's  under  half-an- 
hour.  It  was  worth  any  risk  to  see  dear  Fanny.  After 
all,  stolen  joys  are  the  sweetest  —  danger  of  discovery 
gives  a  zest  to  love-interviews.  If  Romeo  had  been  let 
in  at  the  front  door,  and  allowed  to  see  Juliet  in  the 
front  parlour,  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Capulet's  sanction,  he 
would  n't  have  enjoyed  it  half  so  much  as  the  balcony." 

With  hurried  reflections  of  this  comforting  descrip 
tion,  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  quickened  his  steps,  and 
speedily  reached  the  Railway  Station. 

"  Down  train  to  Hoxford,  Sir?" 

"  Yes  !  when  does  it  start?  " 

"The  carriages  are  in  now,  Sir:  but  the  train  won't 
leave  the  platform  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour."  , 

"  Delightful !  just  the  ticket !  by  the  way,  I  may  as 
well  get  my  ticket.  I  shall  do  the  Old  Boy  beauti 
fully  !  " 

At  the  very  moment  that  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  had 
come  to  this  satisfactory  conclusion,  he  heard  a  cab 
clatter  up  to  the  Station;  and,  the  next  minute,  in 
walked  —  the  Old  Boy  ! 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   SICK  MAN   IS   IN   DANGER. 

IT  was  remarked  by  the  eminent  Stoic  philosopher, 
Epictetus,  in  his  admirable  manual  of  morals,  "The  En 
chiridion  "  —  or,  if  it  was  not  remarked  by  Epictetus,  it 
might  have  been,  if  he  had  chanced  to  have  thought  of 
such  a  thing — that  it  is  impolitic  to  enumerate  the 


.•EGER;   OR,   MISTAKEN   IDENTITY.  243 

brood  of  the  domestic  fowl,  before  the  process  of  incu 
bation  has  been  brought  to  a  satisfactory  conclusion. 

The  folly  of  this  delusive  feeling  of  security  was 
exemplified  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Percival  Wylde,  when  he 
saw  the  Old  Boy  walk  into  the  Great.  Western  Station. 
Fortunately  for  the  son,  the  father  was  so  intent  upon 
hastening  to  secure  his  ticket,  and  ascertaining  if  he  was 
in  time  for  the  train,  that  he  passed  within  a  yard  of 
Percie  without  seeing  him;  and  the  young  gentleman 
had  the  intense  satisfaction  of  hearing  his  paternal  rela 
tive  order  a  first-class  ticket  for  Oxford,  and  assured  by 
the  clerk  that  he  had  full  ten  minutes  to  spare.  Of 
course,  Percie's  first  and  chiefest  impulse  was  to  keep 
out  of  sight  of  the  Old  Boy ;  a  feat  the  more  easily 
achieved  from  the  fact  of  the  old  gentleman,  after  one 
promenade  and  stern  scrutiny  of  the  platform  —  during 
which,  Percie  lay  hid  in  a  lamp-room,  redolent  with 
greasy  and  oily  compounds  that  would  have  gladdened 
the  heart  of  a  Russian  —  either  designedly  or  accident 
ally,  taking  up  his  station  in  front  of  the  ticket-taker's 
box. 

"Well ! "  thought  Percie,  in  the  greasy  recesses  of  the 
lamp-room,  "  this  may  be  regarded  as  a  fix.  What 
must  be  my  plan  of  action?  To  be  myself,  or  not  to  be 
myself — that  is  the  question.  Shall  I  again  face  the 
Old  Boy,  and  have  a  da  capo  performance  of  our  previ 
ous  entertainment?  No  !  that  would  be  a  trifle  too  cool : 
it  would  surpass  the  bounds  of  probability  for  the  Old 
Boy  to  fall  in,  on  the  same  day,  with  two  individuals  so 
strikingly  like  me.  That  won't  do.  Stay !  a  brilliant 
idea  strikes  me  !  What  if  there  is  an  express  that  starts 
half-an-hour,  or  even  an  hour,  after  this  train,  and  yet 
reaches  Oxford  before  it.  How  gratifying  to  the  Old 


244  TALES  OF  COLLEGE  LIFE. 

Boy's  feelings  it  would  be  to  have  his  slower  Parliamen 
tary  shunted  into  a  siding,  while  the  quicker  Express 
whirled  me  past  him  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  a  minute. 
Delightful !  if  it  can  be  put  into  execution." 

But  it  could  not.  For,  on  Percie  carefully  emerging 
from  the  lamp-room,  and  consulting  a  time-table  and  a 
porter,  he  gathered  from  their  joint  information,  that 
the  train,  now  about  to  start,  was  a  quick  train,  and  that 
the  Express  had  already  gone. 

"  It  won't  do  at  all,"  thought  Percie,  "  for  the  Old 
Boy  to  reach  Oxford,  and  find  the  ager  man  not  there. 
It  would  be  risking  Fanny's  happiness  as  well  as  my 
own ;  for  he  would  certainly  cut  off  the  supplies,  and 
then,  the  only  kind  of  union  left  for  us  would  be  the 
Union  workhouse.  In  my  cottage  near  a  wood,  where 
love  and  Rosa  would  all  be  mine,  is  all  very  well  in 
poetry;  but  the  sentiment  won't  do  when  translated 
into  prose,  unless  the  cottage  is  a  cottage  ornee,  and 
Rosa  has  the  proper  amount  of  pin-money.  I  must 
take  steps  to  prevent  the  Old  Boy  from  cutting  up 
rough.  Desperate  diseases  require  desperate  remedies. 
I  must  go  to  Oxford  in  the  same  train  with  the  Old 
Boy."  And,  as  that  venerable  individual  continued  to 
remain  on  guard  at  the  ticket-office  until  the  moment  of 
the  train's  departure,  Percie  was  compelled  to  surmount 
the  difficulty  of  obtaining  his  ticket,  by  commissioning 
a  porter  to  do  it  for  him. 

"  Now  then !  take  your  seats,  if  you  please.  Any 
more  going  on  for  Oxford  ?  " 

Certainly !  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  is  going  on,  as  soon  as 
he  has  seen  the  Old  Boy  safely  ensconced  in  a  first-class 
carriage.  He  sees  it ;  and,  making  a  dart  into  another 
first-class  carriage,  the  bell  rings  —  the  doors  are  slammed 


OR,   MISTAKEN    IDENTITY.  245 

—  the  last  cry  is  heard  of  "  Mornin'  papers  —  'Times/ 
'  'Vertiser,'  '  Mor'n  Post,'  '  Punch,'  '  'Lustrated  Noos  ! '  " 
-the  whistle  is  sounded — the  strong-minded  old  gen 
tleman,  who  is  determined  to  have  all  that  he  pays  for, 
and  has  gulped  down  his  boiling  soup  or  coffee,  in  true 
Salamander  fashion,  rushes  wildly  at  the  locked  carriage 
doors  —  the  feeble-visioned  old  lady  bewilders  the  por 
ters  with  incoherent  inquiries  —  the  engine  gives  a  few 
convulsive  snorts,  like  the  hippopotamus  rising  from  his 
bath  —  and  off  she  goes  ! 

So  far  so  good  !  But  this  is  only  the  first  part  of  the 
danger  overcome.  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  must  bear  in  mind 
that  the  old  proverb  advises  him  not  to  give  vent  to 
vociferations  until  he  has  emerged  from  the  forest:  and 
the  dangers  of  the  Didcot  Junction  have  yet  to  be  sur 
mounted.  Dangers  they  were,  and  had  liked  to  have 
proved  fatal  to  the  case  of  the  ceger  man. 

The  Old  Boy,  with  a  perversity  peculiarly  aggravating, 
had  got  into  a  carriage  that  was  going  on  to  Bristol,  and 
out  of  which,  therefore,  he  had  to  get  at  the  Didcot  Junc 
tion  ;  while  Mr.  Percival  Wylde,  with  a  tenacity  of  pur 
pose  that  was  well  nigh  his  ruin,  had  seated  himself  in  a 
carriage  that  was  going  through  to  Oxford.  This  carriage 
was  one  of  those  peculiar  to  the  Great  Western  line  — 
divided  into  two  compartments  communicating  with  each 
other;  and  what  was  Mr.  Percival  Wylde's  horror  on 
seeing  his  father  deliberately  advancing  to  this  carriage ! 
He  had  barely  time  to  pass  into  the  second  compartment 
(which  was  empty),  and  pull-to  the  door  of  communica 
tion,  when  his  father  stepped  into  the  other  compartment, 
and  ensconced  himself  on  the  very  seat  that  he  had  so 
lately  occupied.  "  This  is  all  very  well,"  thought  Percie, 
as  he  drew  a  long  breath;  "but,  suppose  the  Old  Boy 


246  TALES   OF  COLLEGE   LIFE. 

takes  it  into  his  head  to  pay  a  visit  to  this  compartment! 
'  The  thought,  it  is  madness,  deceiver,  to  thee ! '  as  the 
song  says.  I  will  sell  my  life  as  dearly  as  possible."  Mr. 
Percival  Wylde,  therefore,  silently,  but  firmly,  clasped 
the  handle  of  the  door,  and  pulled  it  towards  him;  and, 
with  a  beating  heart,  listened  to  the  gaspings,  puffings, 
and  mental  ejaculations  with  which  the  Old  Boy  was 
amusing  himself  on  the  other  side. 

In  this  way  the  father  and  son  reached  Oxford,  side  by 
side,  and  yet,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  far  distant  from 
each  other.  But  though  he  had  reached  Oxford  in 
safety,  yet  the  ceger  man  was  not  yet  out  of  danger ;  even 
Doctor  Love  would  not  have  pronounced  him  free  from 
a  relapse.  The  sick  man  had  still  to  get  into  his  College, 
and  that,  before  the  Old  Boy  could  arrive  there. 

Now,  the  railway  traveller  may  chance  to  remember, 
that  the  "  Down  "  side  of  the  Oxford  Station  is  on  the 
further  side  from  the  city ;  and  that,  on  alighting  on  the 
"  Down  "  platform,  to  proceed  to  the  city,  he  has  to  pass 
over  a  bridge  that  spans  the  line  —  by  which  proceeding 
a  greater  amount  of  ground  has  to  be  traversed  than  if 
he  had  set  out  to  the  city  from  the  "Up"  platform.  This 
problem  of  mensuration  was  at  once  apparent  to  Mr. 
Percival  Wylde,  and  also  the  benefit  that  he  might  derive 
from  its  immediate  solution.  He  had  no  sooner,  there 
fore,  seen  the  Old  Boy  clear  out  of  compartment  No.  I, 
than,  darting  from  compartment  No.  2,  with  his  coat 
collar  turned  well  up  over  his  face,  he  ran  across  the 
line,  jumped  on  to  the  "  Up  "  platform,  and,  in  defiance 
of  policemen  and  railway  regulations,  vaulted  over  the 
iron-work  fencing,  that  —  in  a  manner  believed  to  be 
peculiar  to  the  Oxford  station  —  performs  the  super 
fluous  duty  of  an  useless  barricade  against  nothing,  and 


OR,   MISTAKEN   IDENTITY.  247 

utterly  confounds  elderly  females,  who,  having  once  got 
within  the  railings,  can't  get  out  again,  and  regard  them 
much  in  the  same  way  as  they  would  look  upon  the 
maze  at  Hampton  Court.  In  less  than  a  minute,  Percie 
was  in  a  cab ;  and,  in  less  than  five  (minutes,  not  cabs), 
was  put  down  at  the  end  of  the  lane  at  the  back  of  St. 
Boniface,  having,  by  this  stratagem,  fairly  distanced  the 
Old  Boy. 

Surely,  the  Fates  had  befriended  him!  for  he  gained 
his  rooms  as  he  had  left  them,  unseen  by  other  than 
friendly  eyes ;  and  was  received  by  Mac  with  those  grins 
and  double-actioned  wriggles  by  which  a  Skye  terrier  is 
accustomed  to  express  his  joy. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE   SICK  MAN'S   SYMPTOMS   ARE  DUBIOUS. 

THE  Old  Boy  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and  at  once 
made  his  way  to  his  son's  rooms.  It  was  not  the  first 
time  that  he  had  visited  them,  so  that  he  had  not  to 
inquire  his  road,  but,  with  unfaltering  memory  and  with 
unswerving  steps,  walked  across  the  correct  "  quad.," 
laboured  up  the  correct  staircase,  and  paused  to  regain 
breath  at  the  correct  "  oak,"  which  was  surmounted  with 
the  name  of  "  WYLDE." 

"  Come  in  !  "  cried  a  faint  voice,  in  reply  to  the  tap  at 
the  door;  and,  saluted  by  the  furious  barking  of"  Mac," 
the  Old  Boy  walked  into  the  room,  and  immediately 
gave  vent  to  exclamations  of  the  greatest  surprise  at 
the  very  unexpected  tableau  vivant  that  met  his  gaze. 


248  TALES   OF  COLLEGE   LIFE 

Percie  had  made  the  best  use  of  the  few  minutes  that 
intervened  between  his  own  and  his  father's  arrival,  and 
had  produced  a  stage  effect  that  proved  his  dramatic 
powers  to  be  of  no  ordinary  kind.  The  scout  being 
fortunately  in  the  way,  a  basin  containing  a  gruelly 
compound  had  been  extemporised,  and  placed  judi 
ciously  upon  the  table,  in  company  with  a  stout  physic- 
bottle,  and  a  wine-glass.  Drawn  up  to  the  table  was  a 
sofa;  and,  reclining  languidly  thereupon,  his  feeble 
body  supported  by  the  pillows  from  his  bed,  was  the 
figure  of  Mr.  Percival  Wylde,  denuded  of  coat,  waist 
coat,  neckcloth,  and  boots,  and  clad  in  a  loose  dressing- 
gown  and  slippers.  His  pallid  features  betokened,  either 
the  rapid  inroads  of  his  malady,  or  the  superficial  use  of 
a  certain  cretaceous  tooth-powder.  A  close  scrutiny 
would,  perhaps,  have  enabled  the  spectator  to  determine 
under  which  head  he  might  assign  the  palor ;  but  the 
window-blind  was  drawn  down,  and  a  dim  religious  light 
pervaded  the  apartment.  As  the  Old  Boy  entered  the 
room,  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  was  lying  back  upon  his 
pillows,  apparently  engaged  in  sipping  the  gruellous 
compound. 

"  Why,  Percie !  good  gracious !  can  it  be  you  ?  " 
gasped  the  Old  Boy. 

."Why  father!  good  gracious!  can  it  be  you?"  re 
sponded  Percie,  in  a  weak  voice,  like  an  echo  in  a 
consumption. 

"  Why  —  how  —  eh  —  what  —  you  —  eh  !  "  gasped 
the  Old  Boy,  in  a  fit  of  unintelligible  monosyllables, 
which,  if  they  were  meant  to  express  what  was  passing 
in  his  mind,  ought  to  have  been  expanded  into  these 
words:  "  Why,  how  did  you  get  here,  when  I  have  just 
left  you  in  London?  Can  I  have  been  deceived  after 


OR,  MISTAKEN   IDENTITY.  249 

all?  Was  it  really  a  stranger  to  whom  I  spoke  at  Hyde 
Park  Corner?  And  yet,  it  was  a  very  great  likeness. 
But  then,  there  are  great  likenesses  in  the  world.  Oh ! 
of  course,  it  must  have  been  a  stranger:  my  own  son 
would  not  have  denied  himself  to  his  own  father.  Bless 
my  life  !  how  I  have  wronged  the  poor  lad  by  my  suspi 
cions  !  And  so  wretchedly  ill  as  he  is,  too  !  How  shall 
I  forgive  myself  ?  But,  am  I  obliged,  therefore,  to  con 
fess  my  mistake  to  my  son,  and  expose  my  own  head 
strong  blunder?  Shall  I  show  him  that  I  have  suspected 
him  without  a  cause?  No  !  I  must  let  him  suppose  that 
I  am  come  up  to  see  him  solely  in  consequence  of  hav 
ing  received  the  information  of  his  illness.  Poor  lad  ! 
how  I  have  wronged  him,  to  be  sure." 

The  Old  Boy  was  assisted  to  the  conclusion  of  his 
mental  plan  of  action  by  Percie  saying,  "  It  was  very 
kind  of  you  to  run  up  to  see  me;  but,  when  I  wrote  to 
tell  you  that  I  was  ager,  I  had  no  thought  that  I  should 
thus  put  you  to  the  trouble  of  coming  up  to  Oxford,  or 
I  would  not  have  said  a  word  about  my  illness." 

"  Trouble  !  my  dear  Percie,"  said  the  Old  Boy,  really 
relieved  at  his  son  putting  this  construction  on  his  visit : 
"  as  soon  as  I  knew  that  you  were  ill,  I  could  not  rest 
until  I  had  seen  you." 

"That's  a  thumper!  "  thought  Percie. 

"  And  so,  I  said  to  your  mother,  I  don't  feel  at  all 
comfortable  about  Percie,  until  I  have  seen  that  he  has 
got  proper  advice." 

"  That 's  another !  "  thought  Percie. 

"  So  I  at  once  came  up  to  Oxford,  without  delay  —  " 

"  Thumper  the  third  !  "  thought  Percie. 

"  And  I  am  quite  grieved  to  find  you  such  an  invalid, 
and  looking  so  miserably  pale." 


250  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

"  The  tooth-powder  is  a  success  !  "  thought  Percie. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  have  been  studying  a  great  deal  too 
hard.  You  should  be  careful  about  yourself,  Percie, 
and  not  overtax  your  constitution.  You  should  n't  burn 
the  —  what  is  it?  —  the  midnight  oil,  too  much,  you 
know."  And  the  Old  Boy  said  to  himself,  "  Bless  my 
life !  how  I  have  wronged  the  poor  lad  !  " 

"  Oh  !  I  am  much  better,"  said  Percie,  making  a  show 
of  an  attempt  at  cheerfulness,  and  thinking  that  the  Old 
Boy  would  probably  have  changed  his  idea  of  his  son's 
use  of  the  midnight  oil,  if  he  had  been  one  of  the  wine- 
party  that  had  tenanted  that  apartment  last  night,  and 
had  clouded  the  midnight  oil  with  the  fumes  of  tobacco 
until  the  small  hours  of  the  morning;  —  "I  am  much 
better,  though  still  on  the  csger  list,  and  under  the  Doc 
tor's  hands,  as  you  see.  But  I  hope  this  is  my  last  day 
of  living  on  slops,  for  it  is  not  very  agreeable  fare.  I 
can't  ask  you  to  join  me  ;  but  I  will  soon  get  you  some 
thing  from  the  Buttery,  or  the  Confectioner.  At  any 
rate,  I  can  give  you  a  glass  of  something  better  than 
this ;  "  and  Percie  indicated  the  medicine  bottle.  "  By 
the  way,  it  is  my  time  for  taking  it.  But,  no  !  I  will 
postpone  it  for  awhile  —  I  think  I  may  throw  the  Doctor 
over  this  once." 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  Percie,"  said  the  Old  Boy ; 
"  '  throw  physic  to  the  dogs '  —  as  What's-his-name  says 
in  the  play  —  and  take  a  glass  of  port  instead.  You 
look  as  though  you  wanted  something  strengthening. 
Those  doctors  are  always  on  the  lowering  system:  it 
makes  good  for  their  trade." 

"  Well  !  I  really  should  like  a  glass  of  port,"  said 
Percie,  with  the  air  of  a  man  whom  circumstances  had 
compelled  to  be  a  stranger  to  such  a  luxury :  "  and  I 


OR,   MISTAKEN    IDENTITY.  251 

think  I  may  venture  on  one,  if  it 's  only  to  drink  your 
good  health." 

"  Of  course  !  certainly !  "  said  the  Old  Boy;  "  it  can't 
do  you  any  harm,  and  it  may  put  some  colour  in  your 
cheeks.  Your  mother  would  be  quite  distressed  if  she 
were  to  see  you  looking  so  pale.  Where  have  you  felt 
your  chief  pain?  " 

"  Chiefly  here,"  replied  the  sick  man,  with  a  subdued 
smile,  as  he  laid  his  hand  over  the  region  of  his  heart, 
and  placed  the  port  wine  upon  the  table.  "  The  symp 
toms  have  been  unusually  severe  to-day.  Let  me  fill 
your  glass." 

"  Thank  you,  Percie !  and  fill  your  own  also ;  I  'm 
sure  it  won't  do  you  any  harm.  And  here  's  to  your 
better  health !  "  said  the  Old  Boy.  And  as  the  wine 
gurgled  in  his  throat,  he  thought,  "  Bless  my  life !  how 
I  have  wronged  the  poor  lad.  His  mother  would  be 
quite  distressed  to  see  him." 

And  thus  Mr.  Wylde  senior  was  filled  with  the  deepest 
repentance  for  the  imaginary  wrong  he  had  done  his 
son,  in  supposing  that  he  had  met  him  at  Hyde  Park 
Corner,  when  he  had  been  lying  so  ill  and  pale  in  his 
Oxford  rooms.  And  after  the  Scout  had  cleared  away 
the  remains  of  the  dainty  little  banquet  that  had  been 
sent  in  by  the  Confectioner,  —  in  which  feast  Mr.  Perci- 
val  Wylde  did  eat  more  than  was  benefiting  for  the 
character  of  an  ceger  man ;  excusing  himself,  however, 
on  the  presumptive  medical  fact,  that  heart  complaints 
brought  on  great  voracity  of  appetite  —  when  this  ban 
quet  had  been  brought  to  a  satisfactory  termination, 
and  when  the  Old  Boy  had  been  well  warmed  with 
a  further  supply  of  port — a  generous  beverage  for 
warded  from  his  own  cellars  —  he,  then  and  there,  in 


252  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

order  to  make  an  atonement  for  his  unworthy  suspicions 
of  his  son,  did,  in  the  noblest  manner,  fill  up  for  him  a 
cheque  for  double  the  amount  he  had  asked  for. 

"  But  you  will  soon  throw  the  doctor  over,"  said  the 
Old  Boy,  as  he  looked  at  Percie,  whose  face  had  been 
cleared  of  the  tooth-powder.  "  These  doctors  always 
keep  to  the  lowering  system.  You  already  look  fifty 
per  cent,  better  for  having  had  a  good  dinner  and  a  glass 
of  wine,  instead  of  slops  and  physic ;  and  I  hope  that 
to-morrow  I  shall  be  able  to  take  home  a  better  account 
of  you  to  your  mother." 

And  the  Old  Boy  did  so ;  for  Mr.  Percival  Wylde, 
who  professed  himself  to  be  greatly  benefited  by  his 
father's  visit  —  which,  at  any  rate,  he  was  as  to  purse  — 
with  the  Old  Boy's  departure  was  at  once  restored 
to  perfect  convalescence.  And,  as  it  happened,  this 
was  the  last  time  that  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  was  "  ager." 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

MR.   PERCIVAL  WYLDE  IS   DOING  WELL  —  NO   FURTHER 
BULLETINS  WILL  BE  ISSUED. 

IT  was  shortly  after  this  that  Mr.  Percival  Wylde  took 
his  degree.  He  was  one  of  the  last  who  went  in  under 
the  old  regulations,  and  he  thanked  his  stars  that  he 
came  under  the  ancien  regime,  instead  of  the  modern 
system. 

It  was  at  this  important  epoch,  also,  that  a  certain 
maiden  lady  deceased,  having  bequeathed  to  her  niece, 
Miss  Fanny  Douglas,  the  sum  of  twenty  thousand 


OR,  MISTAKEN   IDENTITY.  253 

pounds,  invested  in  the  five  per  cents. ;  and  as  this 
legacy  slightly  altered  the  complexion  of  affairs,  the 
Old  Boy  was  graciously  pleased  to  withdraw  his  prohi 
bition  against  his  son's  union  with  the  fortune-possessing 
Miss  Fanny,  who  in  due  process  of  time,  and  with  all 
due  ceremony  and  rejoicing,  was  converted  into  Mrs. 
Percival  Wylde. 

It  is  believed  that  it  was  on  the  evening  of  their 
wedding  day,  that  the  arrangement  was  finally  agreed 
upon  which  terminated  in  the  affable  Canary  withdraw 
ing  Pinner  from  Mrs.  Percival  Wylde's  service,  and 
constituting  her  the  hostess  of  that  old-established  house, 
and  well-known  resort  of  the  Belgrayian  livery — "The 
Polyphemus  and  Squint  "  —  to  the  good-will  of  which 
he  had  just  succeeded. 

And  it  is  believed,  that  although  Mr.  Percival  Wylde 
is  continually  attended  by  Doctor  Love,  yet  that  he  is 
no  more  "  teger"  than  he  was  on  that  memorable  morn 
ing  when  he  encountered  the  Old  Boy  at  Hyde  Park 
Corner. 


A    LONG-VACATION    VIGIL. 


CHAPTER    I. 

WHICH   INTRODUCES   THE   HERO. 

f 

r  I  "'HE  Commemoration  was  just  over.  My  mother 
-L  and  sister  Nelly,  who  had  never  seen  its  glories, 
had  been  spending  the  week  in  Oxford,  and  were  thor 
oughly  fatigued  with  their  severe  round  of  sight-seeing 
and  lionising.  Like  a  dutiful  son  and  brother,  I  had 
shown  them  everything  that  was  worth  looking  at :  had 
given  them  select  breakfasts  and  luncheons  in  my  rooms 
at  Brazenface  —  promenaded  with  them  in  the  Broad 
Walk  on  the  Sunday — got  them  good  places  in  the 
Theatre,  where,  indeed,  Nelly  had  to  blush  in  the  front 
row,  as  one  of  "  the  ladies  in  pink  "  —  procured  them 
tickets  for  the  Amateur  Concert  —  taken  them  on  to  our 
college  barge  to  see  the  Procession  of  Boats  —  gone 
with  them  to  Worcester  College  to  see  the  Horticultural 
Show  and  the  Fireworks  —  introduced  them  at  the  Ball 
in  the  Town  Hall ;  and,  in  short,  had  generally  acted  as 
a  walking  catalogue  to  all  the  sights  arid  notabilities  of 
my  Alma  Mater.  These  were  fatiguing  pleasures  to  all ; 
and  I  was  not  sorry  when  they  had  come  comfortably  to 


A   LONG-VACATION    VIGIL.  255 

their  end,  and  the  spires  and  domes  of  Oxford  had  been 
left  far  behind  us. 

I  had  been  anxiously  looking  forward  to  the  Long 
Vacation,  for  the  end  of  it  would  see  me  going  in  for  my 
degree.  What  with  boating,  cricketing,  and  other  sum 
mer  idlenesses,  I  had  put  off  reading  so  long,  that  at  last 
I  had  come  to  the  conclusion  it  would  be  better  to  lay 
aside  books  altogether  till  Term  was  over ;  and  that  in 
the  quiet  of  the  Long  Vacation,  I  should  have  abun 
dance  of  time  for  my  reading.  So  I  had  laid  this  flatter 
ing  unction  to  my  soul,  and,  having  thoroughly  enjoyed 
the  Term,  I  thought  I  could  as  thoroughly  and  easily 
settle  down  to  work  now  that  "  the  Long  "  had  com 
menced.  Big  with  this  resolve,  I  went  so  far  as  to  un 
pack  my  books  and  lay  them  upon  my  study-table  ;  but 
the  exertion  seemed  to  exercise  a  weakening  effect  upon 
me,  and  I  deemed  it  best  to  brace  myself  up  for  work  by 
a  dip  in  the  sea,  and  to  spend  a  few  days  at  the  quiet 
little  watering-place  of  Westcliffe,  whither  my  mother 
and  sister  had  gone  with  all  the  juveniles.  Finally,  I 
resolved  that  I  should  be  in  the  best  trim  for  reading 
while  enjoying  the  quiet  and  the  sea-breeze ;  so  I 
packed  up  some  books,  and  determined  to  stay  at 
Westcliffe  some  few  weeks. 

The  next  week,  armed  with  my  classical  weapons,  I 
made  a  descent  on  my  family,  who  had  taken  up  com 
fortable  quarters  at  the  Royal  Hotel.  Like  many  hotels 
in  similar  places,  it  was  so  constructed  that  it  had  private 
entrances  for  those  families  who  might  take  a  suite  of 
rooms ;  and  my  mother  had  preferred  this  to  the  usual 
lodgings.  The  hotel  was  on  the  outside  of  the  little 
town,  fronting  to  the  sea.  For  the  first  few  days  I  got 
on  very  well;  and  I  had  just  come  to  that  point  when  I 


256  TALES   OF  COLLEGE   LIFE. 

thought  how  jolly  it  would  be,  when  I  began  work  next 
Monday,  to  lie  on  the  cliff,  with  a  weed  in  my  mouth, 
and  get  up  Aristotle,  and  watch  the  sea-gulls  skimming 
about,  and  the  ships  sinking  in  the  distant  west,  when 
an  event  occurred,  which,  for  a  time  put  all  my  logic 
to  flight. 


CHAPTER   II. 
WHICH   INTRODUCES  THE   HEROINE. 

ONE  afternoon,  when  Nelly  and  I  were  returning  to  the 
hotel  to  dinner,  from  a  long  ramble  over  the  cliffs,  a 
travelling  carriage  and  four  dashed  by  us.  Who  could 
it  be?  Westcliffe  was  a  very  quiet  little  place,  and  a 
carriage  and  four  was  not  an  every-day  arrival.  "  And 
how  strange,"  said  my  sister,  "  there  is  neither  maid  nor 
footman  in  the  rumble ;  "  and,  as  it  went  by  us,  I  looked 
for  the  coat  of  arms  (Nelly  is  great  in  heraldry),  and 
they  had  evidently  been  painted  out.  "  Whom  can  the 
carriage  belong  to  ?  " 

"  Most  probably  to  that  grey-haired  old  gentleman, 
who  is  just  getting  out  of  it,"  I  replied  ;  for  the  carriage 
had  drawn  up  at  the  door  of  the  hotel.  By  the  time 
that  the  gentleman  had  assisted  a  middle-aged  lady  to 
descend,  we  had  approached  them  (for  our  private  door 
was  next  to  the  public  entrance),  and  I  had  a  full  view 
of  the  third  occupant  of  the  carriage  She  was  a  young 
lady  of  not  more  than  twenty  years  of  age,  with  a  pale 
face  of  rare  beauty,  to  which  an  air  of  deep  melancholy 
gave  a  peculiar  charm.  As  she  stepped  from  the  car- 


A   LONG-VACATION   VIGIL. 


257 


riage  a  book  dropped  from  her  hand  and  fell  under  the 
wheel.  I  picked  it  up  and  returned  it  to  her.  With  the 
old  gentleman  I  interchanged  a  salutation  of  hats,  with 
the  young  lady  I  interchanged  a  mere  glance.  But 
what  will  not  a  glance  effect  when  one  is  yet  a  child  in 
the  eyes  of  the  law,  and  when  the  thermometer  is  at  90 
in  the  shade?  From  that  moment,  I  was  that  young 
lady's  slave. 

With  another  glance,  and  we  had  passed  side  by  side 
into  our  respective  doorways,  and  I  had  only  the  lovely 
vision  of  her  features  to  console  me.  Eating  dinner 
under  such  circumstances  was  a  mockery  and  a  jest ;  I 
went  through  the  ceremony  merely  as  a  solemn  duty 
which  I  owed  to  custom  and  to  my  family.  I  was  glad 
when  I  was  able  to  get  away  on  to  the  beach,  and  meditate 
by  moonlight  on  the  fair  unknown.  How  her  features 
were  impressed  on  my  mind,  though  I  had  seen  her  but 
for  a  few  seconds !  But  there  are  some  faces  to  be  met 
with  once  or  twice  in  a  life-time,  which  can  never  be 
forgotten,  but  which  will  rise  in  all  their  freshness  and 
beauty  before  the  charmed  spell  of  memory,  without 
any  effort  or  will  of  our  own  to  call  up  the  several 
features.  And  so  it  was  with  the  lady  of  my  tale.  I 
can  see  her  before  me  now — "in  my  mind's  eye, 
Horatio  "  —  as  distinctly  as  I  could  in  my  lover's  fancy 
when  I  walked  that  night  on  the  sea-beach  at  Westcliffe, 
and,  according  to  my  wont  under  great  excitement, 
talked  to  my  Skye-terrier  Trap,  on  the  subject  that  en 
grossed  my  thoughts.  Trap  was  my  college  dog  and 
constant  companion  —  the  recipient  of  all  my  secrets. 
If  all  depositors  of  secrets  made  a  similarly  wise  selec 
tion  in  their  confidantes,  the  Mrs.  Candours  of  the  world 
would  find  a  greater  part  of  their  occupation  gone ! 

17 


258  TALES   OF  COLLEGE   LIFE. 

The  beach  lay  shining  before  me ;  the  sea  came  dash 
ing  and  rolling  in  with  its  grand,  everlasting  music ;  and 
I  —  like  Demosthenes  shouting  his  orations  to  the  waves 
—  paced  up  and  down  the  beach,  and,  amid  the  roar  of 
the  waters,  told  all  my  fancies  to  Trap.  "  Wasn't  it  a 
face  to  haunt  you  in  blissful  dreams  —  eh,  Trap?  Did 
you  ever  see  such  an  expression,  Trap?  —  not  one  of 
those  senseless  wax-doll  faces,  but  a  calm,  pensive  look, 
with  a  winning  gentleness  and  soft  melancholy  that 
reaches  your  heart  at  once  —  doesn't  it,  Trap?  It  is 
the  sort  of  melancholy  air  which  leads  you  to  suspect 
-  that  she  has  never  told  her  love,  but  let  concealment 

'  you  know  the  rest,  Trap.  But,  when  I  picked  up 

the  book,  did  you  see  the  sweet  smile  that  played  around 
her  mouth,  and  lighted  up  her  face  with  a  sunbeam  of 
beauty  —  did  you  see  that,  Trap?  And  then  her  eyes! 
did  you  ever  see  such  eyes,  Trap?  such  deeply,  darkly, 
beautifully,  blue  eyes,  Trap?  Swimming  in  their  own 
liquid  fascinations,  Trap  !  " 

My  enthusiasm  was  carrying  me  rather  out  of  my 
depth;  but  Trap  wagged  his  tail,  as  though  he  perfectly 
understood  and  appreciated  my  remarks.  I  therefore 
continued  my  poetical  metaphor. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  eyes  of  such  a  liquid  blue?  a  blue, 
blue  sea,  from  which  the  Queen  of  Love  comes  forth  to 
dower  you  with  all  her  charms,  Trap  ?  What  sea-nymph 
ever  had  such  cerulean  eyes,  Trap?  What  Nereid,  what 
dweller  in  the  coral  caves  beneath  this  wide-resounding 
sea  " 

My  soliloquy  is  disturbed  by  a  gentleman,  who  sud 
denly,  and  to  my  vast  surprise,  emerges  from  the  very 
midst  of  the  waves,  and  announces  himself  to  be —  not 
Neptune,  or  even  a  Nereid  —  but  a  shrimper  !  In  the 


A   LONG-VACATION   VIGIL.  259 

most  unromantic  and  offensive  way,  he  suggests  that 
shrimps  and  prawns  form  an  excellent  appendage  to  a 
well-regulated  breakfast-table ;  and  further  hints  that  he 
—  he,  the  disturber  of  my  solitude,  and  soliloquy  —  by 
name,  Tom  Barr,  but  familiarly  known  as  Old  Barnacles, 
will  feel  it  a  honour  to  wait  upon  a  party  as  smokes  such 
good  tobaccer.  Of  course,  I  give  him  a  cigar,  and  an 
order  for  the  family  breakfast;  by  which  time,  as  my 
weed  is  nearly  out,  and  my  chain  of  ideas  has  been 
rudely  snapt,  I  return,  in  a  ghostlike,  dreamy  way,  back 
to  the  hotel. 

"To-morrow,"    I  thought,    "I  shall  see  her!"    and, 
comforted  by  this  pleasing  thought,  I  turned  off  to  bed. 


CHAPTER    III. 

DISCOVERIES   AND    BEWILDERMENTS. 

I  OUGHT  to  have  dreamed  of  her,  and  should  probably 
have  done  so,  had  not  the  low  murmur  of  the  waves 
lulled  me  into  too  sound  a  sleep  for  a  visit  to  Dream 
land  ;  but  I  devoted  my  thoughts  to  her  during  the 
whole  time  I  was  shaving,  and,  as  that  included  the  risk 
of  a  razor-cut,  I  began  to  think  that  I  was  decidedly, 
and  madly,  in  love. 

After  breakfast,  I  descended  into  the  precincts  of  the 
Bar,  in  order  to  have  a  gossip  with  our  landlady.  Mrs. 
Rummell  was  always  particularly  obliging  on  this  point; 
and  I  therefore  experienced  no  difficulty  in  leading 
the  conversation  on  to  the  subject  of  yesterday's  arrival. 


26O  TALES   OF  COLLEGE   LIFE. 

The  landlady's  communicative  tongue  soon  put  me 
in  possession  of  the  intelligence  I  was  so  anxious  to 
obtain. 

"  The  gentleman's  name  is  Spencer,"  Mrs.  Rummell 
said,  "  the  gentleman  told  me  so  himself,  and  said  that 
all  letters  directed  here  in  that  name  were  to  be  brought 
to  him  ;  and  he  said  that,  Sir,  just  as  though  they  was  n't 
to  be  given  to  either  of  the  two  ladies.  The  oldest  lady 
is  his  wife,  because  he  called  her  'my  dear'"  (Mrs. 
Rummell's  logic  was  conclusive)  ;  "  and  the  young  lady 
is  his  daughter,  because,  when  I  offered  to  assist  her  in 
taking  off  her  travelling-dress,  the  other  lady  said 
'Thank  you,  but  my  daughter  needs  no  assistance:' 
and  I  heard  her  call  her,  Amy."  (Amy !  what  a  sweet 
name!)  "They  have  very  grand  manners,  and  are 
grand  people,  I  'm  sure,  Sir;  but  I  think  there's  some 
thing  rather  queer  with  them.  It  is  n't  often  that  gentle 
folk  of  their  quality,  especially  where  there  are  ladies, 
travel  without  their  servants ;  but  that 's  nothing  to  do 
with  me,  if  they  want  to  save  expense.  And  they  don't 
let  the  waiter  be  in  the  room  at  meal-time,  no  more  than 
is  necessary  to  change  plates,  and  put  the  things  on  the 
table ;  but  that's  nothing  to  do  with  me,  if  they  wish  to 
be  private.  And,  last  night,  when  the  chambermaid 
went  to  unfasten  the  ladies " 

"  Unfasten  them !  "  I  cried  in  surprise.  "  Why,  you 
don't  mean  to  say  that  they  are  chained  up?" 

"  Oh,  law  no,  Sir !  "  laughed  Mrs.  Rummell,  in  good- 
humoured  horror. 

"  Then,  do  you  mean  that  the  two  ladies  are  taken  to 
pieces  every  night?" 

"  Ah !  you  are  fond  of  your  joke,  I  see,  Sir ;  but,  of 
course,  you  know  what  I  mean  well  enough;  that  the 


A   LONG- VACATION   VIGIL.  26 1 

chambermaid  went  to  assist  the  ladies  in  unlacing  their 
dresses,  and  so  on." 

"  Oh  !  I  see  !  and  what  happened?  " 
"  Well,  Sir!"  answered  Mrs.  Rummell,  "  she  was  only 
allowed  to  unfasten  Mrs.  Spencer ;    and  she  'did  n't  so 
much  as  set  eyes  upon  the  young  lady.     And   it  was 
just  the  same  this  morning,  when  she  went  to  fasten  the 
ladies;   she    only   saw    Mrs.    Spencer;    and,   when    she 
asked  if  she  should  go  and  help  the  young  lady,  Mrs. 
Spencer  said,  '  No !  I  will  attend  to  her  myself.'     Put 
ting   this  and  that   together,  it  almost  looks  as  if  the 
young  lady  had  been  doing  something  wrong,  and  they 
were  keeping  her  under  lock  and  key ;   for,  when  they 
came,  Mrs.  Spencer  said  to  me,  '  We  shall  require  two 
bedrooms,  and  they  must  communicate  with  each  other.' 
I  happened  to  have  such  rooms  as  she  required,  with  an 
inner  door  opening  from  the  one  room  into  the  other, 
and  an  outer  door  to  each  room  opening  on  the  landing. 
So  I  showed  the  lady  these,  and  she  said  they  would  do 
very  well ;   and  then  she  examined  the  lock  of  the  outer 
door  of  the  young  lady's  room,  and  she  locked  it,  and 
told  me  that  she  would  keep  the  key  as  long  as  they  re 
mained  here.     Of  course,  Sir,  I  could  make  no  objection 
to  this ;   but  it  almost  looks  as  if  the  poor  young  lady 
was  a  sort  of  prisoner." 

The  landlady's  tale  roused  my  curiosity,  and  added 
(if  possible)  to  the  interest  I  already  felt  in  the  fair 
stranger.  Poor  Amy !  since  Amy,  it  seems,  was  her 
name ;  what  could  she  have  been  doing  to  require  such 
strict  guardianship?  It  was  a  mystery;  but  it  accounted, 
doubtless,  for  that  sweet  melancholy  which  gave  such  a 
charming  character  to  her  beauty. 

The  more  I  thought  upon  the  subject  the  greater  be- 


262  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

came  its  fascinations.  My  head  was  full  of  Amy,  and 
busy  in  devising  schemes  for  her  deliverance ;  for  that 
she  was  a  prisoner,  I  had  at  once  decided ;  and,  more 
over,  that  I  was  to  be  the  chivalrous  knight  who  should 
rescue  her  from  imprisonment.  I  felt  within  myself 
that  the  age  of  chivalry  was  not  dead,  in  spite  of  what 
Burke  had  said  to  the  contrary. 


CHAPTER    IV. 
DEEPER  AND   DEEPER   STILL. 

WHEN  my  sister  and  I  went  out  for  our  morning's  walk, 
Nelly  was  very  curious  to  know  who  the  arrival  of  the 
previous  day  might  be;  so  I  confided  to  her  all  that 
Mrs.  Rummell  had  told  me  about  Amy. 

Yes!  Amy ;  for  I  could  not  call  her  Miss  Spencer. 
No  !  when  a  man  is  really  in  love  (and  I  felt  that  /  was) 
it  is  the  lady's  Christian  name  that  always  leaps  to  the 
lips,  and  hangs  lovingly  upon  the  tongue. 

And  even  while  we  were  speaking  we  met  her  with 
her  mother.  They  were  coming  up  from  the  sands,  and 
Amy  had  evidently  been  bathing,  for  her  long,  damp, 
dishevelled  hair  was  streaming  from  under  her  plain 
cottage  bonnet,  and  was  lost  in  all  its  luxuriant  richness 
under  the  folds  of  her  shawl.  She  glanced  towards  us, 
and  looked  confused  (at  least,  I  thought  so)  as  she  met 
my  earnest  gaze.  She  sees  that  I  love  her,  I  whispered 
to  myself.  I  was  in  hopes  that,  for  the  slight  courtesy 
I  had  shown  them  on  the  previous  day,  the  lady-mother 


A  LONG-VACATION  VIGIL.  263 

might  vouchsafe  to  recognise  my  existence,  but  she 
passed  on  to  the  hotel,  and  "  made  no  sign." 

Later  in  the  day  we  were  out,  far  away  on  the  cliffs, 
when,  at  an  angle  in  the  narrow  path,  we  suddenly  came 
upon  Amy,  walking  with  her  father  and  mother.  Of 
course  she  saw  us,  and  —  she  smiled!  smiled — there 
was  no  mistaking  that  agreeable  fact !  —  but  the  pater 
nities  put  on  the  similitudes  of  Dragons  guarding  a 
priceless  treasure,  and  they  hustled  her  past  us,  and  got 
out  of  sight  as  rapidly  as  possible. 

Three  days  passed  in  this  (to  me)  most  unsatisfactory 
manner.  Amy  bathed  in  the  mornings,  and  walked  out 
in  the  afternoons,  but  was  always  under  strict  surveil 
lance.  And  the  same  mysterious  dragon-ship  was  main 
tained  over  her  in-doors  —  so  Mrs.  Rummell  informed 
me :  none,  except  her  parents,  had  interchanged  a  word 
with  her  since  she  had  been  in  the  house.  But  hers 
were  eyes  which  had  a  dumb  language  of  their  own,  far 
more  expressive  than  even  the  words  of  some  people's 
lips ;  and,  when  we  met  her  in  our  walks,  those  pleading 
eyes  seemed  to  say  to  us  "  I  am  persecuted  and  help 
less  ;  oh !  be  my  friends !  "  And  her  sad,  touching  look 
of  melancholy  would  so  work  on  my  excited  feelings 
that  I  many  times  asked  Trap  if  I  should  be  justified  in 
laying  violent  hands  upon  the  Dragons,  and  delivering 
the  unfortunate  Amy  from  their  thraldom.  But  my 
sage  attendant  would  not  commit  himself  to  an  opinion 
on  this  delicate  subject. 

Of  course,  while  my  mind  was  in  this  excited  state,  it 
was  impossible  to  settle  down  to  hard  reading.  I  tried 
to  do  so  one  morning,  and  opened  my  Thucydides ;  but 
I  could  see  nothing  in  the  Greek  characters  but  "  Amy, 
Amy ;  "  and  her  calm  face  and  deep  blue  eyes  swam 


264  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

between  me  and  the  page.  I  must  "  cram  "  at  the  last, 
I  said,  and  make  a  shot  for  my  degree.  I  was  a  bache 
lor,  in  danger,  not  only  of  losing  my  heart,  but  my  B. 
A.  also. 

The  fourth  day  came.  I  had  inspected  Mr.  Spencer's 
carriage,  in  the  coach-house ;  but  the  coat  of  arms  had 
been  so  completely  painted  over  that  I  was  unable  to 
make  out  anything.  The  carriage  was  nearly  new  — 
why  should  the  arms  have  been  obliterated  ?  I  rubbed 
off  some  of  the  paint  with  my  thumb,  and  I  discovered 
that  the  arms  were  surmounted  by  an  Earl's  coronet. 
Stranger  still !  Was  Mr.  Spencer  travelling  under  false 
colours?  or,  was  he  a  parvenu  who  had  bought  the 
carriage  at  a  sale,  and  therefore  painted  out  the  her 
aldry?  But  the  appearance  of  the  whole  party  was 
against  this  supposition.  There  was  an  air  about  the 
Dragons  which  showed  them  to  be  Dragons  of  gentle 
blood,  while,  as  for  Amy,  she  was  every  inch  a  lady ! 
The  mystery  was  increasing;  and  to  all  appearance,  was 
as  far  from  being  solved  as  ever  —  at  any  rate  by  me. 

What  with  the  heat  of  the  weather,  and  the  fervency 
of  my  passion,  I  should  have  been  completely  pros 
trated  with  the  oppression  of  this  mystery,  if  the  burden 
had  much  longer  remained  upon  my  mind ;  but,  that 
same  afternoon  it  was  destined  to  be  removed  in  a  very 
unexpected  manner. 


A  LONG-VACATION  VIGIL.  265 

CHAPTER  V. 

A    CLUE    TO    THE    MYSTERY. 

NELLY  and  I  had  gone  out  for  a  stroll,  and  had  reached 
a  part  of  the  cliff,  down  whose  steep  side  there  wound  a 
narrow  pathway  to  the  beach.  We  were  nearly  halfway 
down,  when  we  saw  Amy  and  her  father  and  mother 
coming  up.  The  Dragons  looked  as  though  they  would 
have  turned  when  they  saw  us;  but,  if  that  was  their 
first  resolve,  they  changed  it,  and  came  on  towards  us. 
As  they  slowly  approached,  toiling  up  the  steep  path, 
we  both  noticed  the  unusually  bright  look  of  joy  which 
lighted  up  Amy's  face.  She  was  leaning  on  her  father's 
arm,  while  her  mother  walked  at  her  side,  but  slightly 
behind,  the  path  being  narrow. 

"  Look,  Nelly !  "  I  whispered,  "  she  is  evidently  show 
ing  us  a  letter !  "  and  my  heart  throbbed  quick,  like  the 
bell  of  an  electric  telegraph  machine — for  I  thought 
the  letter  might  be  for  me. 

"  She  is,  indeed !  "  whispered  Nell ;  "  and  see,  she 
conceals  it  under  her  shawl,  that  her  father  and  mother 
may  not  see  it.  And  look  how  earnestly  she  is  gazing 
at  me !  "  ("  and  at  me !  ")  "  And  she  puts  her  finger  on 
her  lip  —  that  means  secrecy.  She  must  mean  the 
letter  for  me ;  "  ("  or  for  me ; ")  "  But  how  will  she 
convey  it  to  us?  " 

There  was  no  time  to  speculate  on  this  point,  for  we 
had  reached  the  trio.  I  pressed  Nell's  arm  as  a  signal, 
and  we  drew  on  the  one  side  of  the  narrow  path,  so  as 
to  allow  the  others  to  pass  us.  We  each  looked  ear- 


266  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

nestly  at  Amy,  while  Nell  (so  she  tells  me)  threw  into 
her  face  as  great  an  amount  of  sympathy  as  she  could 
express.  Amy  also  looked  at  her  (for  it  was  at  her  — 
there  was  no  mistake  about  it!)  with  a  look  of  almost 
tearful  supplication ;  and,  as  she  passed,  evidently  trem 
bling,  there  fell  from  underneath  her  long  trailing  shawl, 
a  letter.  Her  father  seemed  to  hear  the  slight  rustle  of 
the  paper,  and  quickly  turned;  but  I  was  too  quick  for 
him.  The  letter  had  no  sooner  reached  the  ground 
than  it  was  covered  by  my  foot,  and  the  Dragon  saw  me 
earnestly  engaged  in  pointing  out  to  Nelly  an  interest 
ing  steamer  which  was  trailing  its  smoke  in  the  far 
distance.  I  suppose  he  was  satisfied,  for  they  continued 
to  ascend  the  cliff.  I  secured  the  letter,  and,  watching 
my  opportunity,  as  Amy  slightly  turned  her  head 
towards  us,  I  gave  the  document,  with  stage  effect,  into 
Nell's  hands,  while  Nell  waved  her  handkerchief  as  a 
friendly  signal  of  "  All 's  right." 

Then  we  went  down  to  a  sequestered  part  of  the 
beach,  and,  sitting  upon  a  fragment  of  rock,  Nelly  read 

the  letter  to  me.    It  was  addressed  "  To  Miss ,"  and 

was  written  in  pencil,  in  a  neat,  elegant  hand.  It  ran 
thus :  - 

"  Pardon  this,  my  friend  —  for  oh  !  let  me  call  you  friend, 
though  I  know  not  even  your  name ;  but,  something  tells  me 
that  I  have  not  read  your  kind  face  in  vain,  and  that  you  will 
indeed  be  a  friend  to  me.  I  steal  the  minutes  to  write  this ; 
and,  as  I  write,  I  know  not  how  I  may  convey  it  to  you ;  but, 
I  must  trust  to  the  God  of  the  helpless  to  aid  me,  and  I  pray 
that  this  day,  on  which  hangs  my  fate,  may  not  pass  away 
without  these  lines  being  in  your  hands.  I  must  burden  you 
with  my  sad  tale,  in  order  to  explain  the  request  which  I  shall 
have  to  make  to  you ;  but  I  will  be  very  brief. 


A   LONG-VACATION   VIGIL.  267 

"  My  father  is  the  Earl  of  Glenarvon  ;  I  ,am  his  only  child ; 
he  has  great  estates  which,  if  I  outlived  him,  would  be  mine. 
They  are  joined  by  the  estates  of  Lord  Gurdon;  and  my 
father's  cherished  plan  has  been  to  unite  the  Gurdon  with  the 
Glenarvon  estates.  For  that  purpose  an  arrangement  was 
made  which  betrothed  me  to  Lord  Gurdon's  eldest  son.  I 
had  known  Philip  Gurdon  from  a  boy ;  but  I  could  not  love 
him.  I  never  did  love  him.  Ah !  my  friend,  they  cannot 
order  the  affections — they  cannot  say  to  them  'Go  there,'  or 
'  Stay  here.'  No  !  They  are  like  the  waves  that  are  now 
murmuring  in  my  ears,  and  no  sovereign  power,  except  the 
Great  Supreme,  can  rule  the  mighty  tide  of  love. 

"  My  heart  was  not  my  own  to  give.  I  had  entrusted  its 
keeping  to  another.  But,  when  my  cousin,  Captain  Alvanley, 
proposed  for  my  hand,  my  father  would  not  listen  to  him ;  he 
had  set  his  heart  on  marrying  me  to  Philip  Gurdon,  and  he 
would  hear  of  nothing  else.  He  is  a  kind  father,  and  loves 
me  ;  but  he  is  cold  and  stern ;  and  when  I  wept  upon  his 
bosom,  he  told  me  that  I  must  marry  as  he  wished  me,  and 
must  forget  my  cousin.  I  pleaded  strongly,  and  with  tears ; 
but  in  vain.  Henry,  also,  had  one  more  interview  with  my 
father,  but  was  dismissed  —  even  with  insults.  I  was  in  despair 
—  I  had  no  one  to  counsel  me,  or  speak  words  of  hope ;  and 
in  my  wild  grief,  and  deep,  deep  love,  I  consented  to  fly  that 
night  from  my  father's  house,  and  be  married  to  Captain 
Alvanley  at  Gretna.  He  was  to  bring  a  carriage  to  a  private 
door  in  the  park  wall,  and  I  and  my  maid  (for  I  had  confided 
my  secret  to  her,  and  she  had  promised  to  go  with  me)  were 
to  meet  him  there.  I  made  my  preparations,  and  counted  the 
minutes  until  I  should  be  with  Henry ;  but  my  maid  played  me 
false,  and,  at  midnight,  as  I  was  preparing  to  leave  the  house, 
my  father  met  me  on  the  stairs.  He  upbraided  me  with  my 
disobedience,  and  I  fell  fainting  into  my  mother's  arms.  It 
was  a  terrible  scene. 


268  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

"  My  father  still  feared  that  I  should  fly  with  my  cousin,  and 
he  determined  to  remove  me  to  some  spot  unknown  to  Captain 
Alvanley.  Travelling  privately,  and  under  feigned  names,  they 
have,  therefore,  brought  me  to  this  place ;  and  they  keep  a 
constant  watch  over  me  to  prevent  my  communicating  with 
Henry.  But  '  Love  is  strong  as  Death,'  says  the  Holy  Book  — 
'  many  waters  cannot  quench  it,  neither  can  the  floods  drown 
it.'  My  father  intended  his  purpose  to  be  kept  secret  from 
me ;  but,  before  we  left  home,  I  by  chance  heard  a  conversa 
tion  between  him  and  my  mother,  and  learnt  the  name  of  our 
destination.  I  discovered  a  trustworthy  messenger,  and  imme 
diately  wrote  to  my  cousin ;  and  it  was  arranged  that  he  should 
bring  a  carriage  this  very  evening  at  midnight,  to  the  environs 
of  WestclifTe.  As  I  knew  not  where  we  should  be,  I  promised 
to  send  some  one  (on  whose  secrecy  I  could  depend)  to  meet 
him.  My  mother,  I  was  sure,  would  take  measures  to  keep 
me  to  my  room,  and  I  knew  that  I  should  have  to  escape 
by  the  window.  Henry  was  to  bring  a  rope-ladder  for  the 
purpose. 

"  But  whom  can  I  send  to  meet  him  ?  In  whom  can  I  con 
fide  ?  I  am  alone,  and  among  strangers  —  watched  and 
guarded.  I  throw  myself,  then,  upon  the  generous  kindness 
of  yourself  and  the  gentleman  whom  I  suppose  to  be  your 
brother.  My  deep  love  emboldens  me  to  break  down  the 
barriers  of  form,  and  to  ask  assistance  at  the  hands  of  strangers. 
Oh  !  if  you  would  secure  the  happiness  of  another,  and  save 
her  from  sinking  into  misery,  forgive  the  freedom  of  her  appeal, 
and  aid  her  in  what  she  asks.  It  is  this  :  that  the  gentleman 
(your  brother?)  would  this  evening,  at  midnight,  meet  Captain 
Alvanley  where  the  Avenue-road  by  the  hotel  joins  the 
Northern-road,  and  would  inform  him  where  I  am  to  be  found. 
My  room  is  at  the  side  of  the  hotel  towards  the  Avenue-road. 
I  shall  be  at  my  window,  dressed,  and  in  readiness ;  but  the 
greatest  silence  must  be  observed,  as  a  door  only  divides  my 


A  LONG-VACATION   VIGIL.  269 

room  from  my  mother's.  Of  the  outer  door  she  has  the  key ; 
but  this  we  had  expected.  The  ladder  will  be  of  silk,  and  I 
can  secure  it  without  noise. 

"  I  know  not  how  to  apologise  for  the  boldness  of  my 
request ;  but  I  ask  of  your  brother,  as  a  man  of  honour,  not  to 
betray  the  confidence  of  this  communication,  but  to  aid  me  in 
changing  my  present  misery  into  joy,  for  the  sake  of  him  who 
is  dearer  to  me  than  life  itself.  And  that  God  may  bless 
and  reward  you,  and  smile  upon  the  love  that  is  dearer  and 
nearer  than  love  of  father,  or  love  of  brother,  is  the  sincere 
prayer  of 

"  AMY  FRANCES  DARNELL." 

Such  was  the  letter,  but  it  was  not  without  many 
interruptions  and  comments,  that  Nelly  read  it  to  me. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

PLANS  AND   PREPARATIONS. 

HALF  an  hour  had  passed ;  we  had  re-read  the  letter, 
and  had  carefully  considered  every  word  of  its  remark 
able  disclosures. 

"  Poor  thing!  "  at  length  sighed  Nelly;  "what  is  to 
be  done?  " 

"Done!  "  I  cried;  "why,  what  she  wants,  of  course. 
'  Lives  there  a  man  with  soul  so  dead  who  never  to  him 
self  has  said '  —  it 's  my  duty  to  help  a  female  in  distress  ? 
What 's  to  be  done  !  Why,  of  course,  I  shall  go  to  meet 
Captain  Alvanley,  and  shall  help  them  all  I  can.  That 
is  what  is  to  be  done,  Nelly."  I  said  this  with  quite  a 


2/O  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

Spartan  firmness ;  for,  as  Amy  was  really  another's,  I  had 
only  to  make  a  virtue  of  necessity,  and  nip  my  love  in 
the  bud  with  the  best  grace  I  might. 

"  Poor  thing  !  "  again  sighed  my  sister;  "  no  wonder 
she  looked  so  sad ;  and,  when  she  might  be  so  happy, 
it  seems  hard  to  refuse  to  help  her.  But  would  it  be 
acting  right  towards  her  parents?"  I  think  that  Nelly 
in  her  secret  heart  was  rejoiced  at  the  very  prospect  of 
assisting  in  an  elopement;  but  I  suppose  she  consid 
ered  it  proper  morality  to  make  an  objection. 

"  Her  parents !  "  I  answered  hotly  (and  I  don't  wish 
to  defend  what  I  said ;  I  only  record  it  because  I  said 
it) ;  "  her  parents,  indeed !  Have  they  acted  right 
towards  her?  Did  that  dragon  father  of  hers  care  more 
about  uniting  her,  or  the  estates?  Hasn't  he  set  title- 
deeds  and  dowries  in  the  place  of  love  and  affection? 
Hasn't  he  proudly  placed  his  own  family  aggrandise 
ment  as  superior  to  his  child's  happiness?  Doesn't  he 
look  upon  her  wedding-ring  merely  as  a  symbol  of  a 
ring-fence  ?  Does  n't  he  want  to  make  the  holy  estate 
of  matrimony  an  estate  of  broad  acres,  and  to  sink  love 
in  the  land-tax?  Is  marriage  only  a  matter  for  lawyers? 
Can  you  write  on  hearts  like  parchment,  and  endorse 
them  like  bills,  to  be  made  payable  at  sight  to  any  one 
you  please,  changing  'I  love  you'  into  an  I  O  U? 
Must  poor  Amy  be  a  '  puppet  to  a  father's  threat?  '  as 
Tennyson  says." 

"Dear  me,"  said  Nelly,  whose  breath  was  almost  taken 
away  by  my  impetuosity;  "you  treat  me  to  quite  a 
little  homily." 

"Why,  suppose,"  I  continued,  "  that  you  were  placed 
in  a  similar  position  with  regard  to  Fred."  (my  sister 
was  engaged  to  Fred.  Temple,  so  I  knew  that  this  was 


A  LONG-VACATION  VIGIL. 


2/1 


an  argumentum  ad  hominem,  which  all  her  filial  logic 
would  not  be  able  to  resist) ;  "  and  suppose  you  threw 
yourself  on  the  confidence  of  a  young  girl  of  your  own 
age,  what  should  you  think  of  Jier  if  she  refused  to  assist 
you ;  and  what  would  Fred,  think  of  that  young  lady's 
brother  if  he  followed  his  sister's  example?  Fred,  would 
call  him  out  at  once.  So,  as  I  don't  want  to  go  out  with 
Captain  Alvanley,  I  shall  meet  him  with  pacific  inten 
tions  at  the  cross-roads  at  twelve  o'clock  to-night." 

Nelly  did  not  require  more  persuasion,  so  we  both 
agreed  to  help  poor  Amy  all  we  could,  and  not  to  men 
tion  the  subject  to  my  mother,  for  fear  she  should  side 
with  the  parents,  and  disclose  the  projected  elopement 
to  Lady  Glenarvon. 

"  Captain  Alvanley,"  mused  my  sister  as  we  wandered 
back  to  the  hotel,  "  I  cannot  but  help  thinking  that  I 
have  heard  his  name,  and  that  he  is  a  friend  of  Freder 
ick's,  and  in  the  same  regiment." 

Now  that  my  sister  mentioned  it,  I  had  some  dim 
recollection  of  the  same  thing;  and  though  we  could 
neither  of  us  fully  determine  it  as  a  fact,  the  mere  sup 
position  of  its  truth  made  us,  if  possible,  more  earnest 
in  Amy's  cause.  We  had  no  "  Army  List  "  to  refer  to, 
to  settle  the  point ;  but  when  we  got  back  to  our  rooms, 
Nelly  turned  up  Lord  Glenarvon's  name  in  the  "  Peer 
age  "  (my  mother  never  travelled  without  the  "  Peer 
age,"  and  "  Johnson's  Dictionary  ")  and,  sure  enough, 
we  there  found  the  name  of  his  "  sole  child  and  heiress, 
the  Lady  Amy  Frances  Darnell,  heir-presumptive  to 
the  barony  of  Darnell,  born  -  — ,  (Amy  was  barely 
twenty).  And  it  further  stated  that  the  "  heir-presump 
tive  to  the  Earldom  and  Barony  of  Arvon,"  was  "  his 
Lordship's  eldest  brother,"  whose  son,  the  Hon.  Henry 


272  TALES   OF  COLLEGE   LIFE. 

Algernon  Alvanley,  was  "  Captain  in  the  — th  Light 
Dragoons  "  (Fred.'s  regiment). 

This  discovery  was  exceedingly  agreeable  to  our  feel 
ings,  as  we  had  now  an  additional  incentive  to  aid  poor 
Amy.  Nelly  entered  heart  and  soul  into  the  scheme ; 
delighted  at  being  able  to  assist  a  friend  of  her  affianced 
husband. 

Both  she  and  I  remained  in  a  great  state  of  excite 
ment  all  the  evening,  longing  for  midnight  to  arrive. 
"  It  will  be  impossible  for  me  to  go  to  sleep,"  said 
Nell ;  "  so  I  shall  take  a  book  to  my  room,  and  sit  up 
till  you  can  come  and  tell  me  the  result  of  the  night's 
adventure." 

To  Mrs.  Rummell,  I  said  "  that  I  was  going  out,  and 
should  not  be  back  till  late :  would  she  give  me  a  latch 
key?  and  that  would  prevent  any  of  the  servants'  sitting 
up  for  me." 

"  Oh,  certainly,  Sir,  with  the  greatest  of  pleasure ;  it 
was  n't  every  gentleman  that  had  so  much  thought  for 
servants." 

All  being  prepared,  as  the  hour  of  midnight  drew  nigh, 
I  sallied  out  with  Trap,  and  commenced  my  vigil.  The 
hotel  was  situate  on  the  outside  of  the  little  town.  Its 
front  (where  was  our  suite  of  rooms)  looked  over  the 
cliffs  towards  the  sea ;  its  north  side  (where  Amy  had 
told  me  was  her  bedroom)  was  bounded  by  the  Avenue- 
road,  a  road  overhung  by  lime-trees,  which  led  towards 
the  inland,  and  which,  at  the  distance  of  between  three 
and  four  hundred  yards,  met  at  right  angles,  the  North- 
road.  It  was  at  this  point  that  I  was  to  meet  Captain 
Alvanley. 


A  LONG-VACATION  VIGIL.  2/3 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ALVANLEY  TO   THE   RESCUE! 

IT  is  a  midsummer  night  of  rare  beauty.  The  dew  lies 
heavy  upon  the  grass,  telling  of  the  morrow's  heat. 
The  broad  moon  is  at  the  full,  making  a  light  almost 
equal  to  that  of  day.  The  air,  which  has  been  so  sultry, 
is  now  cool  and  refreshing,  and  comes  floating  through 
the  lime-tree  boughs  with  the  most  delicious  perfume. 
The  quivering  leaves  of  the  overhanging  trees  are  stirred 
by  its  rich  breath,  and  throb  as  though  with  rapture. 
Through  the  dewy  screen  of  leaves  and  interlacing 
boughs,  the  wandering  moonbeams  pass,  dancing  and 
leaping,  and  making  bright  floating  circles  on  the  shaded 
floor  of  the  road  beneath.  In  the  hedgerows  honey 
suckles  hang  their  links  of  sweetness,  and  mingle  their 
odours  with  the  scent  of  the  newly-mown  hay:  the  rip 
ening  corn  gently  sways  in  the  soft  night  breeze ;  sea 
gulls  are  settling  down  into  their  rocky  nests;  and  the 
querulous  note  of  a  quail  reaches  me  from  a  distant 
meadow.  A  little  wayside  brook  comes  babbling  on 
toward  the  sea,  with  a  light  musical  song  of  ferns,  and 
foxgloves,  and  flowering  heather;  while  the  sonorous 
roll  of  the  ocean,  breaking  on  the  beach  below,  fills  up, 
with  its  deep  diapason,  the  summer-hymn  of  Nature. 

I  look  down  through  the  vista  of  chequered  light  and 
shade,  and  I  see  the  great  cliffs,  and  over  them  the  wide 
expanse  of  sea,  and  the  blue-paved  heaven  thick  inlaid 

18 


2/4  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

with  its  "  patines  of  bright  gold  ;  "  and,  though  the  dense 
foliage  over-head  shuts  out  the  moon  from  view,  I  see 
her  beams  reflected  in  the  waters  in  a  long  line  of  stream 
ing  light,  that  insensibly  takes  my  thoughts  back  to  one, 
who,  in  the  days  of  Earth's  youth,  laid  him  down  to 
sleep  in  the  lonely  desert,  and,  in  a  vision,  saw  a  ladder 
of  light  that  reached  to  heaven,  and  the  angels  ascend 
ing  and  descending  the  shining  stars  of  glory. 

Midnight  is  proclaimed  from  the  old  church  tower. 
The  reverberations  of  the  last  stroke  become  fainter  and 
fainter;  and  I  listen  attentively  for  the  sound  of  carriage- 
wheels.  I  hear  nothing  but  the  babbling  brook  and  the 
distant  breakers.  I  light  a  cigar,  and  ask  Trap  to  favour 
me  with  his  opinion  of  Lord  Glenarvon.  There  is  no 
danger  of  our  being  interfered  with,  and  told  to  "  Move 
on  !  "  by  the  police.  Westcliffe  can't  boast  a  guardian  of 
the  night;  we  have  the  Queen's  highway  all  to  ourselves. 
The  North-road  lies  bare  and  white  in  the  moonlight ; 
and  I  could  see  a  carriage  at  three  miles'  distance  — 
could  hear  it,  at  more.  Captain  Alvanley  is  decidedly 
not  a  punctual  man !  I  think  that  if  /  had  a  girl  like 
Amy  waiting  to  fly  off  with  me,  and  be  my  wife,  I  should 
be  rather  before  my  time  than  after  it.  I  am  not  at  all 
cold ;  on  the  contrary,  out-of-doors  is  more  refreshing 
than  in,  this  hot  weather;  but  I  dance  a  polka,  merely 
for  a  little  amusement  and  change.  Trap  sits  in  the 
middle  of  the  road,  and  gravely  watches  me  from  under 
his  shaggy  eyebrows,  as  I  polk  round  him.  "What! 
can't  you  make  it  out,  old  doggie?"  He  evidently  takes 
me  for  a  lunatic;  but  I  explain  the  matter  to  him,  and 
he  rubs  his  cold  nose  in  my  hand,  to  show  that  his  con 
fidence  in  me  is  restored.  I  pause  from  my  exertions, 
and  sit  on  the  mile  stone,  smoking  my  weed  ;  while  Trap 


A   LONG-VACATION  VIGIL.  2/5 

turns  out  an  unfortunate  field-mouse,  and  amuses  him 
self  to  his  great  satisfaction. 

One  o'clock  !  No  carriage,  no  sound  of  wheels.  Cap 
tain  Alvanley,  Sir !  what  are  you  thinking  about,  to 
keep  a  gentleman  and  lady  waiting  in  this  way?  I  will 
walk  down  the  Avenue-road,  to  see  if  Amy  is  on  the 
watch.  Softly !  there  she  is !  bonneted  and  shawled, 
sitting  at  her  open  window.  How  the  moonlight  falls 
full  upon  her  face !  Captain  Alvanley,  if  you  could 
now  see  that  face,  and  its  intense  expression  of  anxious 
expectation,  you  would  give  your  post-boys  any  fabu 
lous  fee  to  whirl  you  the  sooner  to  your  Amy's  side. 
She  sees  me  at  once  as  I  emerge  from  the  avenue,  and 
I  come  softly  under  her  window.  She  points  within,  as 
though  towards  her  mother's  room,  and  lays  her  finger 
on  her  lips.  No  talking  allowed ;  I  take  the  hint,  and 
am  speechless.  She  looks  full  upon  me  with  those 
deep-blue  eyes,  and  she  lays  her  hand  upon  her  heart, 
and  bends  towards  me.  She  is  thanking  me  for  my 
vigil.  Then  she  folds  her  hands  together,  and  looks 
inquiringly.  I  shake  my  head  in  reply,  and  point 
towards  the  North-road.  Then  we  go  through  a  little 
ballet  of  action,  and  I  am  almost  inclined  to  pirouette 
on  one  toe,  as  I  signify  to  her  that  I  will  return  to  my 
post,  and  keep  on  the  watch.  And  so  I  turn  away  while 
she  dumbly  expresses  her  thanks. 

I  walk  back  to  my  mile-stone,  and  light  another  weed. 
Trap  don't  understand  it  at  all,  and  sits  in  the  road,  and 
yawns;  so  I  throw  stones  to  divert  him.  But  even  this 
lively  pastime  fails  on  too  great  repetition.  Still  no 
carriage !  I  watch  the  scented  smoke  curling  lightly 
from  my  lips,  and  I  begin  to  think  of  "  Locksley 
Hall:  "  — 


2/6  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

"  Then  her  cheek  was  pale  and  thinner  than  should  be  for  one  so 

young, 

And  her  eyes  on  all  my  motions  with  a  mute  observance  hung, 
And  I  said,  "  My  cousin  Amy,  speak,  and  speak  the  truth  to  me ; 
Trust  me,  cousin,  all  the  current  of  my  being  sets  to  thee." 

If  Captain  Alvanley  thinks  so,  why  does  n't  he  come? 
"  O,  my  cousin,  shallow-hearted !  "  Tennyson  must  de 
cidedly  alter  his  verses,  and  make  the  gentleman  the  one 
who  is  "  falser  than  all  fancy  fathoms." 

Two  o'clock  strikes,  and  no  sight  or  sound  of  carriage. 
I  pace  again  down  the  Avenue-road.  There  is  faithful 
Amy,  still  at  her  window  —  still  on  the  watch.  She  looks 
as  though  she  had  been  weeping,  and  I  try,  by  friendly 
signs  and  nods,  to  comfort  her.  "  She  speaks,  and  yet  she 
says  nothing.  What  of  that?  Her  eye  discourses."  As 
I  look  up  to  her,  I  wish  that  "  I  were  a  glove  upon  that 
hand,  that  I  might  touch  that  cheek ;  "  and,  of  course,  I 
think  of  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  and  the  Balcony  Scene. 
But  where  is  her  Romeo?  Are  his  "  love's  light  wings  " 
impeded  by  a  yellow  post-chaise?  Once  more,  I  silently 
go  back  to  my  mile-stone. 

I  hum  operatic  snatches,  and  go  through  the  chief 
part  of  my  vocal  performances ;  but  Trap  has  a  delicate 
ear  for  music,  and  he  howls  down  my  attempts.  Another 
hour  slowly  passes,  and  still  no  Captain  Alvanley. 

I  steal  under  the  shadow  of  the  trees,  and  I  see  poor 
Amy  looking  so  sad,  that  I  have  scarcely  the  heart  to 
approach  her  without  good  tidings.  I  go  back,  there 
fore,  to  my  mile-stone ;  and  my  comforting  cigar-case  is 
being  rapidly  diminished.  Only  one  weed  is  left,  for  I 
did  not  calculate  on  such  a  lengthened  vigil  —  so  I  hus 
band  it;  but,  at  last,  it  is  smoked  out,  and  I  am  cigar- 
less.  And  still  there  is  no  carriage  —  no  Captain 
Alvanley ! 


A   LONG-VACATION  VIGIL.  277 

Something  must  have  surely  occurred  to  prevent  his 
coming.  Perhaps  he  cannot  obtain  leave  of  absence 
from  his  regiment.  If  this  is  the  case,  I  can  fancy  what 
his  state  of  mind  must  be  just  about  the  present  time. 

Four  o'clock  strikes.  Once  more  I  go  to  Amy's  win 
dow.  She  is  still  there,  and,  being  ready  dressed  for 
her  departure,  I  feel  almost  inclined  to  propose  an 
elopement  on  my  own  account,  and  so,  provide  a  sub 
stitute  for  the  Captain  ;  but  my  mirth  is  checked  as  soon 
as  I  have  seen  her  sad,  sad  features.  She  weeps  outright 
this  time — bursts  into  a  silent  agony  of  tears,  that  I 
can  well  understand.  My  heart  is  touched  with  pity, 
and  I  scribble  on  a  piece  of  paper  —  "  He  may  not  be 
able  to  get  leave  of  absence.  He  will  probably  come 
to-morrow  night,  and  I  will  watch  and  meet  him.  Be 
of  good  cheer."  I  toss  this  up  to  her,  and  as  the  morn 
ing  is  breaking,  there  is  sufficient  light  for  her  to  read 
it  She  cheers  up  directly,  and  smiles  and  waves  her 
hand  to  me.  I  signify  to  her  that  I  shall  continue  on 
my  watch  till  five  o'clock,  and  then  I  go  back  to  my 
mile-stone. 

But,  when  the  hour  has  passed,  no  Captain  Alvanley 
has  arrived ;  and  I  see  that  to  prolong  my  vigil  would 
be  useless,  for  it  is  broad  day  now,  and  people  are 
beginning  to  move  about  to  their  boats  and  their  work ; 
so,  much  to  Trap's  satisfaction,  I  turn  my  steps  towards 
the  hotel.  Amy  is  still  at  her  window.  She  thanks  me 
as  much  as  any  one  could  thank  me  without  speaking. 
She  again  reads  my  scrap  of  a  note,  and  looks  towards 
me  with  a  cheerful  face,  as  though  she  depended  upon 
the  fulfilment  of  my  promise ;  and  then  she  noiselessly 
lets  down  her  window  and  blind.  Having  seen  this,  I 
quietly  make  use  of  my  latch-key,  and  pass  up-stairs  to 


2/8  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

my  sister's  room.  She  has  not  gone  to  bed,  but  has 
fallen  asleep  in  her  chair,  from  sheer  exhaustion.  I 
tell  her  the  result  of  my  night's  vigil,  and  am  presently 
in  my  own  room,  and  a  sound  sleep. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
A  MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S  REALITY. 

THE  next  day  passes  wearily.  In  the  morning  we  see 
Amy  go  to  bathe,  as  usual ;  and,  in  the  afternoon  we 
pass  them  on  the  cliffs.  Amy  looks  pale  and  anxious ; 
and  her  eyes  seem  heavy  with  weeping  and  watching. 
When  we  are  close  to  them,  I  pretend  to  be  talking  in  a 
loud  tone  of  voice  to  my  sister ;  and  I  say  —  meeting 
Amy's  eyes  as  I  say  it —  "  he  will  be  quite  certain  to 
arrive,  and  I  shall  be  there  to  meet  him."  I  think  this 
a  Machiavellian  stroke  of  policy,  and  I  am  delighted 
with  myself  at  my  ready  wit. 

As  evening  advances  the  sky  becomes  overcast ;  and, 
as  I  let  myself  out  of  the  hotel,  at  half-past  eleven 
o'clock,  big  drops  of  rain  beat  against  my  face.  I  send 
Trap  indoors  again ;  it  is  evidently  going  to  be  a  night 
not  fit  to  turn  out  a  dog  in,  and  Amy  will  have  but 
rough  weather  for  her  departure,  though  the  noise  of 
the  wind  and  rain  will  favour  her  escape.  I  put  on  a 
rough  boating  coat,  light  a  weed,  and  sally  forth  to  my 
vigil. 

The  thunder  comes  growling  up  from  the  west,  and, 
presently,  bursts  into  peals  like  the  discharge  of  heavy 
artillery.  The  lightning  gleams  vividly  through  the 


A   LONG-VACATION   VIGIL.  2/9 

lime-trees  overhead ;  and,  for  a  moment  lights  up  the 
tumbling  waves,  that  are  white  with  foam.  Soon  the 
rain  comes  down  in  a  perfect  sheet,  and  even  penetrates 
the  dense  mass  of  foliage  above  me.  It  is,  indeed,  a 
rough  night  for  a  vigil.  But  hark !  the  carriage-wheels  ! 
I  run  out  into  the  North-road,  and  meet  —  the  blinding, 
hissing  rain.  I  listen  again :  there  is  no  sound  of  car 
riage  ;  it  was  but  the  rattling  rumble  of  the  thunder. 

It  must  be  some  time  after  midnight ;  but  the  violence 
of  the  storm  overpowers  the  sound  of  the  church  clock. 
I  keep  under  the  half-shelter  of  the  dripping  trees,  and 
twice  or  thrice  I  run  forth  as  before  to  meet  the  carriage, 
but  with  no  better  success ;  the  wind  and  the  rain  to 
gether  always  deceive  me. 

At  length  the  storm  subsides,  and  the  thunder  dies 
away  in  distant  peals.  I  shake  the  wet  off  me  like  a 
Newfoundland  dog  coming  out  of  the  water.  There  is 
a  grateful  sense  of  coolness  all  around  ;  the  thirsty  earth 
has  drunk  in  the  refreshing  moisture ;  the  July  storm  is 
over.  Soon  the  moon  shines  out,  ghastly  and  pale, 
through  the  dark,  driving  clouds ;  and  only  the  rain 
drops  patter  from  the  leaves.  I  light  a  fresh  cigar  and 
wait  till  two  o'clock  strikes.  No  Captain  Alvanley !  So 
I  walk  down  the  avenue  towards  the  hotel.  Faithful 
Amy !  there  she  is  at  her  open  window,  on  the  watch, 
just  as  she  was  last  night.  She  still  looks  very  pale  and 
sad,  and  she  is  evidently  listening  intently  for  the  sound 
of  the  carriage  wheels.  As  soon  as  she  sees  me  she 
bends  and  greets  me  as  an  old  friend.  I  have  provided 
myself  with  a  sheet  of  paper,  and  I  scribble  on  it  in  large 
letters,  "  The  violence  of  the  storm  must  have  delayed 
him.  No  horses  could  face  such  a  tempest.  By  this 
time  he  is  on  his  road."  I  throw  this  up  to  her,  and  she 


28O  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

catches  it  as  nimbly  as  a  cricketer.  It  seems  to  console 
her ;  so  again  I  return  to  my  post,  or,  to  speak  correctly, 
to  my  mile-stone ;  for  I  take  my  seat  thereon,  and  smoke 
placidly.  I  rather  miss  Trap,  for  he  was  a  companion ; 
but  I  know  that  Amy  is  sharing  my  vigil ; .  so  what  more 
can  I  desire? 

Three  o'clock,  and  still  no  Captain  Alvanley.  This  is 
getting  strange.  Can  he  have  played  her  false  ?  I  will 
go  and  take  a  quiet  look  at  Amy.  She  is  still  at  the 
window  —  still  gazing  out  anxiously  towards  the  North- 
road,  with  a  sad,  sad  face.  I  have  not  the  heart  to  go 
towards  her ;  for  what  can  I  say  ? 

Another  hour  passes  slowly  and  wearily,  and  no  sight 
or  sound  of  carriage.  -  Surely  Amy  could  not  have  made 
any  mistake  as  to  the  night?  It  is  not  probable;  but  I 
will  go  and  ask  her.  She  is  at  her  open  window;  but 
clouds  have  floated  before  the  moon,  and  it  would  be 
impossible  for  her  to  read  anything  that  I  may  write.  I, 
therefore,  essay  to  speak  to  her.  She  leans  forward  out 
of  the  window  and  we  converse  in  whispers.  "  Are  you 
quite  sure  that  he  fixed  last  night?  "  I  ask. 

"  Quite  sure,"  she  answers ;  "  he  mentioned  the  night 
and  the  hour.  I  could  not  be  mistaken." 

"  Perhaps  he  has  not  been  able  to  leave  his  regiment ; 
perhaps  it  has  been  called  out  by  some  sudden  riot ; 
there  may  be  a  hundred  reasons  why  he  cannot  come  " 
(/could  not  think  of  them!)  "  and,  of  course,  he  could 
not  write  to  you.  But  do  cheer  up  and  take  courage  " 
(for  tears  were  beginning  to  fall)  ;  "  I  will  watch  again 
to-morrow  night —  and  —  " 

And  our  t$te-a-t$te  is  suddenly  brought  to  an  end  by 
the  appearance  of  Lady  Glenarvon,  attired,  Lady  Mac- 
beth-\\\LQ,  in  her  robe-de-chambre  and  bonnet  de  nuit. 


A   LONG- VACATION  VIGIL.  28 1 

Amy  gave  a  scream  as  she  turned  and  saw  her  mother 
standing  at  her  elbow.  Lady  Glenarvon  advanced  to 
the  window — stood  there  for  a  moment  (regardless  of 
her  costume),  while  she  mentally  took  my  portrait  in 
very  stern  colours,  and  then,  without  saying  a  word, 
drew  down  the  window  and  the  blind. 

I  waited  to  see  if  more  would  come  of  this ;  but  as 
there  did  not,  I  returned  to  my  mile-stone  to  ponder 
over  the  contretemps,  and  inform  Captain  Alvanley, 
should  he  arrive,  of  the  state  of  the  case.  But  he  did 
not  arrive ;  and,  wearied  and  somewhat  sick  at  heart,  I 
went  back  to  the  hotel,  and  to  bed. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

MYSTIFICATIONS    AND  EXPLANATIONS. 

I  WAS  so  tired  out  by  my  two  nights'  vigil,  that  the  sun 
had  been  up  several  hours  when  I  awoke,  and  it  was  late 
when  I  got  down  stairs.  "Good  morning,  Sir!"  said 
Mrs.  Rummell,  who  was  the  first  person  I  met.  "  Mr. 
Spencer,  Sir,  has  left  this  note  for  you.  He  asked  me 
your  name,  and  he  directed  it  here,  in  the  bar,  Sir." 

"  Mr.  Spencer !     And  pray  who  is  Mr.  Spencer?  " 

"  Why,  the  strange-mannered  gentleman,  Sir,  as  come 
with  the  two  ladies  in  a  carriage  and  four." 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  I  cried  —  for  I  had  forgotten  Lord 
Glenarvon's  incognito  —  "  you  don't  mean  to  say  that 
she  —  that  they  are  gone  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Sir,"  said  Mrs.  Rummell ;  "  they  went  quite 
sudden,  just  after  eight  this  morning;  and  I'd  barely 


282  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

time  to  make  their  bill  out.     I  suppose,  Sir,  they  must 
have  heard  of  the  death  of  some  relative." 

"  Very  like,  very  like !  "  I  muttered  in  a  dream-like 
way,  as  Hamlet  does  when  they  tell  him  of  the  Ghost ; 
and,  tearing  open  the  note,  I  read  this :  — 

"  Sir,  —  When    you    again    assist  a  young    lady  to  break 
through  her  ties  of  filial  duty  and  obedience,  I  should  advise 
you  to  first  ascertain  if  the  young  lady  is  a  free  agent. 
Yours  truly, 

J.  SPENCER." 

"  A  free  agent,  indeed !  Well  that  is  cool  of  the  old 
Dragon,  when  he  knows  what  a  tight  prisoner  he  's  kept 
her."  And  —  metaphorically  speaking,  of  course!  — I 
foamed  at  the  mouth  with  fury  and  excitement. 

When  Nelly  heard  the  news,  she  was  as  much  aston 
ished  as  I  had  been ;  and  when  the  post  had  come  in, 
our  mystification  was  still  further  increased ;  for,  she 
received  a  letter  from  Fred,  which  had  been  written  on 
the  morning  of  the  day  when  the  elopement  ought  to 
have  taken  place,  in  which  he  said  (referring  to  some 
people  my  sister  knew)  "  the  J.'s  have  got  a  picnic  in 
hand  for  to-morrow,  in  which  I  expect  some  of  ours  will 
be  ingloriously  taken  captive.  Bessie  J.  is  to  bring  all 
her  battery  of  charms  to  bear  upon  poor  Alvanley,  whom 
we  have  forcibly  compelled  to  accept  the  invite.  He 
has  been  '  all  in  the  downs,'  lately ;  and  we  thought  that 
a  dose  of  Bessie's  flirtation  would  do  him  good.  So, 
perhaps,  you  may  hear  of  your  friend  being  engaged  to 
my  friend ;  but  I  trust  she  will  not  deprive  herself  of  the 
pleasure  of  being  your  bridesmaid." 

And  so  it  seemed,  that  while  I  was  keeping  my  vigil, 
and  pacing  my  lonely  round,  and  while  Amy  was  on 


A   LONG-VACATION  VIGIL.  283 

the  watch  for  her  lover,  Captain  Alvanley  was  either 
snoring  between  the  sheets,  or  dreaming  of  flirtations 
with  Bessie  J. !  Nelly  and  I  were  altogether  mystified. 
Had  Amy  been  imposing  upon  us,  and  was  the  Dragon 
really  a  Mr.  Spencer,  and  not  an  Earl?  Had  Amy  been 
really  expecting  some  one  to  elope  with  her,  to  whom 
she  had  given  a  name  out  of  the  Peerage?  or  was  the 
whole  affair  a  practical  joke  on  her  part,  to  relieve  the 
tedium  of  a  dull  watering-place?  But  this  could  not  be. 
To  solve  the  mystery,  we  determined  to  write  at  once  to 
Fred.,  and  submit  it  to  his  tact  to  find  out  if  there  was 
any  connexion  between  the  Captain  Alvanley  of  his 
regiment,  and  our  mysterious  beautiful  Amy. 

It  was  some  time  before  the  matter  was  perfectly 
cleared  up.  Captain  Alvanley  himself  wrote  to  me  a 
very  long  and  sad  letter,  which  put  us  in  possession  of 
all  the  particulars  relative  to  his  engagement  with  his 
cousin  Amy.  All  that  she  had  written  in  her  letter  to 
my  sister  was  quite  true,  up  to  the  point  of  the  discovery 
of  the  projected  elopement;  beyond  that,  it  was  the 
mere  invention  of  a  disordered  brain. 

After  Amy  had  fallen  fainting  into  her  mother's  arms, 
she  had  been  seized  with  delirium  and  fever.  This,  to 
gether  with  the  wild  excitement  through  which  she  had 
gone,  partially  unsettled  her  intellect.  As  in  many  other 
similarly  sad  cases,  the  chief  feature  of  her  disease  was 
a  settled  melancholy,  and  a  derangement  only  on  the 
one  point  that  had  brought  on  her  illness;  she  was 
under  the  belief  that  her  cousin  had  planned  another 
night  for  the  elopement,  and  her  mind  dwelt  upon  this, 
as  though  it  were  a  fact.  Hence  her  letter  to  my  sister; 
and  hence  her  plans  of  escape.  It  is  needless  now  to 
explain  the  watchful  care  of  her  father  and  mother; 


284  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

they  were  too  well  aware  of  the  peculiar  phase  which 
their  daughter's  aberration  of  intellect  had  assumed,  not 
to  fear  lest  she  should  escape  in  the  night  to  the  imagi 
nary  assignation.  Change  of  scene  and  strict  retirement 
had  been  advised  as  the  most  effectual  way  to  prevent 
the  increase  of  the  malady,  and  it  was  by  the  doctor's 
counsel  that  Lord  Glenarvon  had  maintained  an  incognito 
when  he  had  brought  his  daughter  to  Westcliffe,  in 
order  that  she  might  derive  all  the  benefit  that  could  be 
gained  from  sea-bathing  and  the  fresh  sea-breeze. 

The  effects  of  my  vigil,  and  her  unfortunate  acquaint 
ance  with  us,  had  added  to  her  disorder ;  and  her  father 
(as  Captain  Alvanley  afterwards  discovered)  had  re 
moved  her  from  Westcliffe  to  the  south  of  France,  and 
from  thence  to  Italy.  There,  under  judicious  treatment, 
her  mind  gradually  recovered  its  healthy  tone ;  and, 
though  the  shock  upon  her  nervous  system  had  been  so 
great,  she  returned  to  England,  after  a  little  more  than 
a  year's  absence,  in  perfect  health  and  strength  —  the 
same  Amy  that  she  had  been  when  she  won  her  cousin's 
love. 


CHAPTER  X. 

BRIEF,   BUT  SATISFACTORY. 

THE  twelve  months  that  saw  Amy's  gradual  progress 
towards  health,  also  witnessed  the  occurrence  of  three 
other  important  events. 

In  the  first  place,  the  Long  Vacation  had  ended ;  and 
despite  the  interruptions  to  my  reading,  I  had  taken  my 
degree. 


A   LONG-VACATION  VIGIL.  285 

In  the  second  place,  Lord  Glenarvon  had  been  taught 
a  lesson  on  forced  marriages  that  he  was  not  likely  to 
forget. 

And,  in  the  third  place,  Philip  Gurdon,  when  he 
learnt  the  cause  of  Amy's  illness,  had  transferred  his 
affections  to  another  lady,  and  had  married  her. 

As  the  possibility,  therefore,  of  joining  the  Gurdon  to 
the  Glenarvon  estates  was  now  at  an  end,  the  Earl  did 
what  he  easily  might  have  done  in  the  first  instance, 
gave  his  consent  to  his  daughter's  union  with  her  cousin, 
Captain  Alvanley. 

They  were  married  about  a  month  since.  If  any  one 
is  curious  to  see  how  the  bride  was  dressed  —  what  was 
the  worth  of  her  trousseau  —  how  many  bridesmaids  she 
had  —  and  what  notabilities  figured  at  her  wedding,  he 
has  only  to  refer  to  the  "  Morning  Post,"  which  devoted 
nearly  half  a  column  to  these  women-absorbing  topics. 
You  will  not  find  my  name  there,  as  I  was  unable  to  get 
back  from  my  Swiss  tour  in  time;  but  you  will  see 
Nelly's  and  her  husband's  name  —  "  Captain  and  Mrs. 
Temple." 

Amy's  wedding-cards  are  lying  on  the  table  as  I  write 
this.  I  have  not  yet  seen  her;  but,  as  they  are  ex 
pected  to  be  at  Glenarvon  Castle  in  a  fortnight's  time, 
and  as  I  am  invited  to  meet  them,  I  shall  soon  have  an 
opportunity  of  judging  whether,  as  Lady  Alvanley,  Amy 
looks  as  sad  and  melancholy  as  she  did  on  the  nights  of 
my  Long  Vacation  Vigil. 


THE   ONLY    MAN    LEFT   IN    COLLEGE 
ON   CHRISTMAS   DAY. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE  CHRISTMAS   "  COACH." 

I'LL  never  do  so  again !  If  I  do,  may  I  be  plucked 
for  my  "  Greats !  "  And  that,  my  Masters,  is  a  big 
oath ;  for  this  is  the  Oxonian  for  "  Great  Go ;  "  which 
in  its  turn,  is  the  equivalent  for  the  "  Examination  in 
literis  humanioribus  for  the  degree  of  B.A."  So  that 
you  may  suppose  I  am  terribly  in  earnest  when  I  say, 
I  '11  never  do  so  again  ! 

When  I  came  to  the  resolution  of  staying  up  in  Ox 
ford  during  the  short  Christmas  Vacation,  and  spending 
Christmas-day  in  the  deserted  halls  of  Brazenface,  I  had 
no  suspicion  that  I  should  be  left  there  as  solitary  as 
Robinson  Crusoe.  I  had  not  the  most  remote  idea  that 
I  should  be  the  monarch  of  all  I  surveyed ;  that  my 
right  there  could  be  none  to  dispute ;  that,  to  the  Mas 
ter's  Lodge  over  the  way,  I  should  be  the  only  poor 
desolate  brute.  But  so  it  was !  And  relentless  fate 
must  have  had  a  delightful  time  of  it,  when  she  saw  me 
register  that  resolution. 


THE  CHRISTMAS   "COACH."  287 

Willoughby,  Collins,  and  I,  having  hunted,  and  idled, 
together  for  the  last  twelve  months,  had  taken  it  into 
our  heads  to  forswear  Suppers  and  "  Wines ;  "  and,  in 
their  stead,  to  open  our  cob-webbed  Lexicons,  to  spread 
over  the  table  with  Greek  Plays  and  Aldrich,  and  old 
"Thicksides"  (as  we  profanely  called  "Thucydides  "), 
and  to  start  a  reading  "  coach,"  of  which  I  was  consti 
tuted  the  "  unicorn,"  or  leader.  Like  all  similar  coaches, 
we  went  off  at  a  slapping  pace,  scarcely  staying  for 
meals ;  and  at  the  end  of  a  fortnight  found  ourselves  so 
blown,  that  we  were  fain  to  bait  with  a  wine  party.  This 
threw  us  back  at  least  a  week,  and  when  we  had  started 
once  more,  we  found  we  were  obliged  to  retrace  our  steps 
over  a  good  deal  of  the  road  along  which  we  had  come 
so  merrily.  In  another  fortnight  just  as  we  had  got  into 
condition  again,  and  were  beginning  to  pick  up  flesh, 
Term  ended.  So  we  held  a  virtuous  debate,  in  which 
it  was  unanimously  agreed  upon,  that  the  Christmas 
festivities,  and  pretty  girls  we  should  meet  at  home, 
would  most  undeniably  and  effectually  disperse  the 
heavier  classical  and  logical  awkward-squad  we  had  with 
so  much  difficulty  marshalled  into  our  respective  brains. 
The  stern  resolution  was  therefore  adopted,  that  the 
Reading  Coach  should  run  through  the  Christmas  Vaca 
tion  ;  and  the  next  day  we  got  the  necessary  licence  to 
allow  this. 

When  we  had  seen  the  last  team  of  men  off  from  the 
Mitre,  and  the  last  train  leave  the  Station,  and  had 
walked  up  the  deserted  High,  and  had  come  back  across 
the  now  dreary  and  silent  Quad,  of  Brazenface  to  my 
snug  rooms,  we  sat  down  by  the  firelight,  and  there 
talked  as  Martyrs  may  have  talked  —  as  Curtius  may 
have  talked,  the  night  before  he  leapt  into  the  pit  in  the 


288  TALES  OF  COLLEGE  LIFE. 

Forum,  —  as  Coriolanus  may  have  talked,  when  he  went 
out  to  war  against  his  wife  and  children,  —  as  Mr.  John 
O'Connell  may  have  talked,  when  he  was  about  to  die 
for  his  country  on  the  floor  of  the  House,  —  as  any 
one  may  have  talked,  who,  as  our  popular  Come 
dians  express  it,  have  "  been  and  gone,  and  done  it," 
and  voluntarily  given  themselves  up  to  disagreeable 
alternatives. 

All  went  on  well  till  Christmas  Eve.  Like  cloistered 
monks,  we  buried  ourselves  within  the  college  walls,  and 
only  issued  forth  for  rapid  constitutionals.  As  Indians 
at  the  stake  are  said  to  relieve  their  pains  by  biting 
through  their  tongues,  so  we  felt  a  certain  relief  in  vio 
lent  reading,  and  in  thus  revenging  ourselves  on  those 
studies  which  kept  us  from  so  many  pleasures.  On 
Christmas-eve,  Collins  and  I  had  gone  out  together 
alone  for  our  diurnal  constitutional,  Willoughby  having 
pleaded  a  headache;  and  when,  after  a  stiff  header 
round  Hillingdon  Hill,  we  had  returned  to  my  rooms, 
what  was  our  surprise  at  reading  the  following  laconic 
epistle,  which  was  lying  on  the  table :  — 

"  Dearly  beloved  Charley  and  Collins,  —  By  the  time  you 
read  this,  I  fervently  trust  I  shall  have  got  clean  away  from 
Alma  Mater.  The  nearer  we  came  to  Christmas- day,  the 
more  undutifully  I  thought  I  was  acting  in  not  going  home 
to  see  my  own  Alma  Mater,  who,  I  '11  be  bound  for  it,  has  been 
sobbing  her  eyes  out,  at  the  thought  of  having  to  eat  her  plum- 
pudding  without  her  young  Hopeful  to  help  her.  Excuse  me 
putting  a  ruse  upon  you,  but  I  was  afraid  you  would  lay 
violent  hands  on  me,  and  detain,  against  my  will,  in  this 
dreary  Brazenface, 

"Yours  elopingly, 

"  W.    LONGUEVILLE   WlLLOUGHBY." 


THE   CHRISTMAS   DINNER.  289 

I  'm  not  quite  sure  what  we  said  on  the  occasion,  but, 
though  I  know  we  both  agreed  that  he  was  the  most  un 
grateful  reprobate  that  the  confiding  arms  of  Friendship 
had  ever  embraced,  I  yet  think  we  entertained  a  very 
strong,  though  unexpressed,  idea,  that  we  should  only 
be  too  glad  to  follow  his  example.  But  if  my  surprise 
and  indignation  were  great  then,  they  were  still  more 
greatly  excited  the  next  morning. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   CHRISTMAS   DINNER. 

I  HAD  lain  rather  late,  having  no  horrid  bell  to  rouse 
me  up  for  chapel,  so  it  was  after  ten  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing  of  Christmas-day  before  I  went  to  Collins's  rooms  to 
breakfast,  for  he  and  I  always  boiled  one  kettle  between 
us.  There  was  the  breakfast  laid  out,  certainly,  but 
only  for  one.  And,  to  increase  my  wonderment,  on 
diving  into  his  bedroom,  where  I  heard  somebody  mov 
ing,  whom  should  I  see  but  old  Mrs.  Tester,  the  bed- 
maker,  busily  employed  in  cramming  linen,  clothes,  and 
a  heterogeneous  mass  of  articles  into  the  portmanteaus 
that  were  gathered  around  her.  The  fearful  truth  at 
once  flashed  upon  my  mind  !  Collins  was  gone  ! 

"  Tell  me  —  tell  me  the  worst !  "  I  gasped  out,  and 
old  Mrs.  Tester  handed  me  the  following  note :  — 

"  Dear  old  Charley,  —  It 's  really  too  bad,  upon  my  honour  ! 
But  what  else  could  I  do  ?  I  dreamt  about  Willoughby  all 
night,  and  the  first  thing  this  morning  got  a  letter  from  my 
sister  to  say  what  a  Beast  I  was  for  not  going  home  on  Christ- 

19 


TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

mas-day,  —  and  that  all  kinds  of  things  are  going  to  be  done, 
and  that  no  end  of  people  are  there,  —  Fanny  among  the  rest, 
—  and  what  an  awful  state  she  's  in  about  my  preferring  stay 
ing  up  here  to  going  down  there,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
Now,  who  could  stand  this?  Especially  when  he  thinks  of 
the  intense  dulness  of  this  hole.  So  I  have  made  up  my  mind 
and  my  carpet-bag  to  go  by  the  8.50  train,  and  I  shall  get  to 
Hammersleigh  in  time  for  dinner.  Mother  Tester  is  to  send 
off  the  heavy  baggage  by  the  next  train.  Quicken  her  about 
it,  there  's  a  good  fellow,  for  I  want  to  come  out  strong  at  our 
county  ball  on  the  3ist,  and  all  my  Sunday-going  toggery  can't 
be  stowed  in  my  carpet-bag.  And  do  go  home  yourself,  old 
fellow,  by  the  next  train ;  it 's  the  proper  thing  to  do :  and, 
depend  upon  it,  too  much  reading  is  bad  for  the  lungs ;  I  feel 
mine  going  already ;  and  don't  victimise  yourself  with  the 
brutalising  books,  but  get  away  home  to  the  women,  and  have 
a  bit  of  polish,  and  you  '11  ever  bless  the  advice  of  yours,  in  a 
railway  hurry, 

"  HENRY  COLLINS." 

I  would  much  rather  pass  over  the  events  of  the  day. 
I  should  not  like  to  expose  myself  in  the  eyes  of  the 
public,  as  I  feel  I  did  in  the  eyes  of  the  respectable  Mrs. 
Tester.  But  I  did  not  go  home  by  the  next  train ;  I 
stayed  where  I  was.  I  laughed  a  hollow  "  Ha !  ha  !  "  — 
like  I  had  heard  the  Stage  Pirates  and  Villains  do ;  and 
I  rather  think  I  wished  myself  a  stage  villain,  that  I 
might  do  somebody  an  injury,  and  expend  the  fury  of 
my  gloomy  anger.  Hall-time  came,  and  I  slank  across 
the  Quad,  for  my  dinner.  There  was  a  cloth  laid  for 
me  across  the  end  of  one  of  the  long  tables,  and  the 
nearest  chandelier  had  two  of  its  lamps  lit  for  my 
special  benefit.  Of  course  there  was  no  High-table; 
any  of  the  Dons,  who  were  still  in  residence,  would  dine 


THE   CHRISTMAS    DINNER.  2QI 

together  on  that  day  ;  and  now  Willoughby  and  Collins 
were  gone,  I  was  positively  the  only  man  left  up  —  the 
only  man  left  in  College  on  Christmas-day!  "Ha! 
ha !  "  Desolation  had  marked  me  for  her  own. 

Our  Dining-Hall  at  Brazenface  is,  as  every  one  knows, 
one  of  the  largest  in  Oxford,  and  the  feeble  light  from 
the  two  solitary  lamps  only  made  it  appear  the  more 
vast  and  solitary.  When  I  peered  into  its  farthest 
depths,  and  thought  of  the  brilliancy,  and  crowd,  and 
laughter,  and  loud  hum  of  conversation,  that,  during  the 
Term,  reigned  there  at  that  time,  I  cut  into  the  roast 
beef  before  me  with  a  savage  energy.  At  least,  I  had 
the  proper  Christmas  dinner !  They  gave  me  that ! 
But  I  think  it  only  made  me  worse :  if  I  had  had  other 
dishes,  I  might  possibly  have  forgotten  the  day,  and  not 
felt  so  wretched.  The  cook,  however,  in  his  mistaken 
kindness,  decorated  the  plum-pudding  with  a  large 
piece  of  holly ;  and  there  was  no  forgetting  that  it  was 
Christmas.  My  scout  waited  upon  me:  to  do  so,  he 
had  been  obliged  to  leave  a  party  of  his  fellow-servants, 
and  was  sulky,  accordingly.  He  told  me  of  this,  and 
asked  my  permission  to  rejoin  them,  as  soon  as  he  had 
put  my  tea-things  ready  against  I  wanted  them.  So 
even  he  was  going  to  a  merry  part}',  and  would  be  in 
company,  and  enjoy  himself;  whilst  I "  Ha  !  ha !  " 

The  very  eyes  of  the  Founders  and  Benefactors 
seemed  to  be  fixed  upon  me,  from  their  canvas,  as  I  ate 
my  solitary  dinner.  It  was  soon  over:  it  was  not  at  all 
the  sort  of  thing  I  wished  to  linger  upon :  and  I  walked 
out  of  Hall,  and  through  the  Second  Quad,  to  the 
cloisters  of  our  Chapel.  It  was  the  most  lonely  place 
I  could  find,  and  it  harmonised  with  my  thoughts  and 
condition. 


2Q2  TALES   OF   COLLEGE   LIFE. 

There,  busy  Fancy  took  me  back  to  past  Christmas- 
days,  and  showed  me  all  their  joys  and  pleasures.  I 
saw  the  happy  groups  of  home,  the  family  meetings,  the 
hearty-welcome  of  long-loved  faces,  the  greeting  of 
well-remembered  friends,  the  gathering  round  the  social 
table,  the  laughing  faces  of  the  children,  the  light- 
hearted  smiles  of  all,  the  cheerful  fire-side,  the  gleaming 
holly-berries  and  shining  leaves,  the  mistletoe  hanging 
enticingly  from  the  ceiling,  the  noisy  games,  and  the 
merry  dance,  —  I  saw  all  these;  and,  my  classical  read 
ing  not  yet  having  converted  me  into  a  stoic,  resolution 
gave  way  before  nature ;  and  within  an  hour  I  had 
packed  up  a  few  things,  followed  Willoughby's  and 
Collins's  example,  and  was  being  whirled  away  by  the 
Express  Train,  every  moment  farther  and  farther  from 
Oxford.  I  never  before  was  so  glad  to  leave  it ! 

Thanks  to  the  blessings  of  the  railway,  and  the  pace 
we  went,  I  got  home  that  night,  much  to  the  astonish 
ment  of  the  assembled  party,  in  time  to  bid  them  "  a 
merry  Christmas,"  before  they  broke  up  ;  and  in  time, 
too,  to  kiss  Helen  Clifford  under  the  mistletoe ! 

I  don't  think  that  Mrs.  Tester  will  ever  again  be  able 
to  say  of  me,  that  I  was  the  only  man  left  in  College  on 
Christmas-day.  If  she  can,  may  I  be  plucked  for  my 
Greats ! 


THE  END. 


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